<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>An Archaeologist's Guide to Robbing Criminals and Wooing the British by HoloUnicorn</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27712672">An Archaeologist's Guide to Robbing Criminals and Wooing the British</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoloUnicorn/pseuds/HoloUnicorn'>HoloUnicorn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats - T. S. Eliot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1930s, Abduction, Action/Adventure, Character Death, Enemies to Lovers, Human AU, M/M, Munkustrap &amp; Rum Tum Tugger are Siblings, References to Ancient Greek Religion &amp; Lore, Tugger POV, Victoria and Misto are twins, Violence, but only the bad guys, criminal organisation, estrangement to brotherhood</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:28:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>20,391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27712672</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoloUnicorn/pseuds/HoloUnicorn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 1930, and Dr. Tugger Deuteronomy’s life mostly consists of eating, sleeping and trying not to get killed whenever he goes to work. His job as a treasure hunting archaeologist keeps him constantly on the move, and makes sure his thoughts don’t stray too much towards the lonely place his home and family used to occupy in his life…  but he’s left that pain behind him now. He gets by just fine, thank you very much, he doesn’t need anyone but himself. But he can’t outrun the past forever, and when his estranged older brother goes missing, Tugger packs up and sets off for Europe, where he ends up embroiled in a quest far more important and dangerous than he could have possibly imagined. Myths become fact, love leaps off the pages of fairy tales and into reality, and family… well, family can always find ways to surprise you. </p><p>A human adventure AU based on Indiana Jones 3 and my obsession with Greek mythology that’s persisted since I was in primary school. (Knowledge of neither of these things is required to read!)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mr. Mistoffelees/Rum Tum Tugger (Cats)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. An Unexpected Offer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So I started working on this fic in April as a quarantine project, and the thought of it just wouldn't leave me alone. I'm so happy that it's finally ready to go live. It's been so fun to write and I hope people can enjoy my self-indulgence!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tugger’s day began like any other, by slouching down at his desk. He flicked through the papers left on it without much interest, any job offers would come through the mail to the university. It was where he “officially” worked. As in, where he gave the occasional guest lecture on archaeology to keep Munkustrap off his back. Munkustrap didn’t really care what he did anyway, he was too busy. Whatever, it didn’t phase Tugger. It was an easy gig, all he really had to do was impart pearls of wisdom like: “archaeology is the search for fact, not truth, leave that to the philosophers”, “X never <em> ever </em>marks the spot” and “never go out on a dig without waterproof boots” and so on. He was rarely even in the States anymore anyway, most of his time was spent abroad, taking off to answer his true calling - treasure hunting, working various different jobs to locate lost artifacts. It was better like that. Being home, for lack of a better word, didn’t suit him so well. The apartment he rented was a cold and lonely place, little more than four bare walls and a place to lay his head, but it was still less empty than what he had left behind - a place filled only with the echoes of long-gone memories.</p><p>Anyway. Pushing that aside, he cast a bored eye around his office. He was lucky to have even a shared office at the university, he knew, since he was hardly ever there. It was his name that got him it, he came from a long line of respected Deuteronomy academics. However, while his father and older brother Munkustrap fit that bill perfectly, Tugger was the exception that proved the rule. He hated sitting behind a desk; getting his doctorate had nearly killed him. He much preferred being out in the field, actually making the discoveries instead of just writing papers about them. Munkustrap could and was upholding the family honour just fine without his help.</p><p>See? This was why he avoided this place if he could! It made him brood, and his brooding face was deeply unattractive.</p><p>His darkening mood was interrupted by the arrival of Plato, the young museum curator and academic he shared the office with. He liked Plato a lot. He didn’t have a lot of experience, but he was the only other staff member around Tugger’s age, and was naturally highly enthusiastic and eager to get involved.</p><p>“Tugger! I’m so glad to see you! I picked up your mail for you!”</p><p>Well, maybe a bit too eager, but likeable nonetheless.</p><p>“These two things came in for you!”</p><p>Plato produced a letter and a small package from his briefcase. Tugger leaned over his desk to take them. The letter was local, but the package had travelled a far greater distance.</p><p>“Venice,” he mused, flipping the parcel over to see the stamps.</p><p>“Italy?” Plato enquired curiously, “is that not where Munkustrap is currently working?”</p><p>“Probably.” </p><p>Why would Munkustrap be writing to him? It wasn’t like they were close anymore. In fact, Tugger doubted they had shared more than forced formalities since their big fall out six years ago. Curiosity sufficiently piqued, he ripped the paper and a small, nondescript black book tumbled onto his desk.</p><p>“What’s that?” Plato asked.</p><p>Tugger recognised it immediately, and felt a sinking sensation at the sight of it.</p><p>“Munkustrap’s diary,” he replied with a frown, flipping through the pages. A sketch of a stick with an intertwining snake caught his eye and he immediately snapped it shut. The diary had previously been their father’s, and Munkustrap was never without it. Until now, apparently. </p><p>“But why would he send that to<em> you</em>...? I mean,” Plato suddenly gasped, backtracking, “no offence or anything, but you’ve kinda been pretty outspoken about what you think about their research.”</p><p>“None taken. I have no idea why he’d send it to me.”</p><p>It was true, Munkustrap knew exactly how Tugger felt about his research, why on earth would he send him what was, essentially, an encyclopedia about it? Years and years of knowledge, every single fact and theory his father and brother had ever found, everything they had ever known, they had painstakingly recorded here. It made no sense. </p><p>Confused, Tugger slit open the other envelope he had received.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> June 16th, 1930 </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dear Dr. Deuteronomy, </em>
</p><p>
  <em>           My sincerest apologies for the short notice, but I would request your company to discuss affairs of a private matter at 1pm on Tuesday, June 17th. I hope that our meeting shall be mutually beneficial, and that you may consent to an excursion on my behalf. Please find the address enclosed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sincerely yours, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Admetus Van Zonderen </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Tugger read the letter aloud in amusement.</p><p>“So, he wants to see me today, in two hours,” he snorted, “‘short notice’ is a bit of an understatement.”  </p><p>“Will you go?” Plato asked, eyeing the letter with interest.</p><p>“Yeah, of course. You don’t recognise the name? Admetus Van Zonderen is one of your museum’s most generous contributors, and his personal collection of antiquities is said to be wondrous.”</p><p>“Oh yeah, is he the one who’s a bit… odd?”</p><p>“He’s eccentric, yeah” Tugger laughed, “but the man’s about as rich as they come, if he has a job I’d have to be more mad to turn it down.”</p><p>“In that case, shouldn’t you get going?”</p><p>He definitely should. Throwing his well-loved flight jacket over his shoulders, he bid Plato farewell and headed off to his new meeting.</p><p>Thankfully, he was able to make it in time, and was only slightly out of breath when he was shown into a handsome study to wait for Van Zonderen. The man appeared to be simultaneously hosting a luncheon, which irked Tugger slightly. Who organised to meet someone at such short notice when they definitely had something else on? He distracted himself by letting his eyes wander around the room. The sounds of the luncheon were muffled behind walls of old books and shelves of historical artifacts. From a perfunctory glance, many of these items were priceless antiquities, and few to none of them had any place in a rich man’s spare room.</p><p>At that moment, the study doors opened and in stepped a middle-aged man with flaming red hair. He was tall, maybe even slightly taller than Tugger, with a thin face, impeccably dressed in a fashionable black suit. He beamed when he saw Tugger, and strode towards him with an outstretched palm.</p><p>“Tugger Deuteronomy!” he cried jovially, energetically shaking his hand, “I’m so very glad you could make it. My God, you look just like your father! I’m Admetus Van Zonderen.”</p><p>Tugger bristled slightly at the comment about his father, but forced a smile onto his face.</p><p>“I know who you are, Mr. Van Zonderen,” he said. “Your contributions to the university museum have been quite generous, and your collection here is also quite something.”</p><p>“Well my dear boy,” Van Zonderen said with a grin, “much like yourself, I have a passion for archaeology! In fact, I requested you come because I have recently acquired something that I believe will interest you very much.”</p><p>There was something about Van Zonderen’s overt cheeriness that wasn’t quite sitting right with Tugger, but perhaps he was just grumpy at having to haul himself half-way across town at short notice. He followed Van Zonderen over to a coffee table, where the man dramatically whipped away a cover and unveiled an old stone tablet. Or at least, a portion of a stone tablet. Something, or perhaps just time, had broken the bottom left quarter off of it. Tugger leaned over it with interest.</p><p>“Sandstone,” he murmured, “Medieval Greek text, Byzantine emblem, mid-twelfth century I’d guess…” His eye caught on a small symbol carved into the bottom of the stone. A snake, twisted around a rod. Urgh. </p><p>“Yes, yes!” Van Zonderen clapped his hands together in delight, “that was our assessment as well! A team of mine dug it up in the Lekani Mountains, north of the Greek city of Kavala. Would you translate the inscription?”</p><p>Double urgh. Medieval Greek was a massive pain, but he studied the text closer.</p><p>“‘<em>I swear by Apollo Physician</em>…’” he began, scanning the first few lines. “It’s the Hippocratic Oath, translated from the original Ionic. Then,” he scanned further down, cursing internally at the differing morphology. What did this scribe have against Ionic? Or Epic? Good enough for Homer but not for them? Madness. “‘...<em>the asklepian, if he be worthy, shall be granted his power over death. Whence let him come; over hill and rock to the canyon of the crescent moon in the House of Gods, where… the Rod of Life resides forever</em>.’”</p><p>Oh, you’ve <em> got </em>to be joking! Tugger’s stomach sank. He lifted his head to find Van Zonderen gazing at him in delight, having popped open a bottle of Scotch. Of course Van Zonderen would be one of those men with a cavernous cellar and a healthy stockpile of totally legal booze. </p><p>“Are you familiar with the legend of the Rod of Asclepius, Dr. Deuteronomy?”</p><p>How could he not be? That damn stick had haunted him since he was a kid. Following the death of their grandfather just before the war, and then their mother in the Spanish flu pandemic shortly after, Tugger’s father had become obsessed with the thing. Maybe he thought that if he found it he could bring them back, but all that came of it was that Tugger ended up losing both of his parents. Then, after their father passed, Munkustrap had decided to pick up where he left off. For what reason, Tugger didn’t know. It was insanity. The Rod was nothing but a myth, how could something like that possibly exist? They were deluding themselves, chasing after a dream. But whatever, he ‘just didn’t understand’.</p><p>“The Staff of Aesculapius, the Rod of Healing used by the Ancient Greek demigod of medicine, Asclepius, to cure the sick and dying! The Rod which can hold back death itself!” Van Zonderen was like a kid in a candy store, practically buzzing with unrestrained glee.</p><p>“Yes, I’ve heard this bedtime story before,” Tugger said, fighting to keep his tone humoured as he straightened up and accepted a glass of whisky.</p><p>“Eternal life, Dr. Deuteronomy! The power to recall souls from death’s clutches! Eternal youth to whoever holds the rod, the power to heal the body of the adverse effects of time! Now, that’s a bedtime story I’d like to wake up to!”</p><p>Tugger smiled placatingly, lifting the glass to his lips. The Scotch, at least, was enjoyable. </p><p>“An old man’s dream,” he remarked, making a toasting motion.</p><p>“Every man’s dream, surely!” Van Zonderen cried, “including your father’s, unless I am very much mistaken.”</p><p>Tugger choked slightly, the whisky burning down his throat. His eyes fixed on Van Zonderen, who smiled knowingly.</p><p>“The Rod was… of endless fascination to him.” That was the nicest way he could think to put it. It had certainly interested him more than either of his sons, anyway. “My brother, as well. He’s a professor of Ancient History, the one all the students hope they don’t get,” he added with a smirk.</p><p>Despite himself, he leaned over the tablet once more, curiosity getting the better of him. Munkustrap would kill to get his hands on this.</p><p>“Hard to resist, isn’t it?” Van Zonderen crooned, running a finger lovingly around the edge of the stone. Tangible proof of the Rod’s existence, its final resting place described in detail.”</p><p>“Detail?” Tugger raised his eyebrows. “It speaks of hills and canyons, and there are plenty of them around. Maybe if the tablet was intact you’d have something to go on, but the whole bottom left portion is missing. You don’t even have a starting point here.”</p><p>“Nonetheless, an attempt to recover the rod is already underway!” </p><p><em> How? </em>  </p><p>“Let me entertain you with another bedtime story, Dr. Deuteronomy.” Van Zonderen was practically singing in excitement. “Upon Asclepius’ ascent to the stars, he passed the Rod to his sons, Machaon and Podalirius, also legendary healers in their own right, who in turn brought it with them to the Trojan War. Now, Machaon was killed, but his brother survived to sack the city. Polidarius came to settle in Caria, but after that any and all accounts of the Rod vanish from history, until some two thousand years later, when it was found again by three crusaders.”</p><p>“Three brothers,” Tugger continued, “low-ranking nobles from France who joined the First Crusade but deserted soon after arriving in the Holy Land. They were thought to have died there. But then, one hundred and fifty years later, two of the brothers walked out of the Byzantine Empire, and began the long journey back to France. Only one of them made it. And before dying of <em> extreme </em>old age, he supposedly imparted his tale to… a Franciscan friar, I think.”</p><p>“Not ‘supposedly’, Dr. Deuteronomy,” Van Zonderen corrected. The man was now practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Tugger sensed that he was very close to finding out why he had actually been asked here. “This,” Van Zonderen brandished a hand at a very old book on top of a polished mahogany reading desk, “is the original manuscript in which the friar chronicled the man’s story! While it doesn’t, unfortunately, give the location of the Rod, it does describe two markers, two markers left behind by the brothers that will. This tablet here is one of those markers! It proves that the story is true! But as you pointed out, it’s incomplete.”</p><p>Tugger nodded. He had a bad feeling he knew exactly where this was going.</p><p>“Now, the second marker,” Van Zonderen continued, undeterred by Tugger’s lack of enthusiasm, “is said to be buried with the man’s dead brother. Our project leader believes that his tomb is somewhere in the city of Venice, Italy. As you can see, Dr. Deuteronomy, we’ve become part of a great quest, which began three millennia ago! We are but one step away!”</p><p>“That’s usually when the ground falls out from under your feet,” Tugger remarked drily.</p><p>“Ah, yes, well, you could be more right than you know. Recently, we’ve hit a bit of a snag. Our project leader has vanished without a trace, along with all of his research. We suspect Hidden Paw involvement.”</p><p>Tugger wrinkled his nose in disgust. The Hidden Paw, led by the infamous madman Macavity, was a notorious criminal gang known for, amongst such niceties as extortion, assault, and abduction, the theft and fencing of rare and valuable artifacts.</p><p>“We received a cable from his assistant, who has no idea of his whereabouts or what’s become of him. So, I’d like you to pick up the trail where he left off. If you find him, you’ll most certainly find the Rod.”</p><p>What a surprise.</p><p>“Look, Mr. Van Zonderen,” Tugger said, exhausted from this whole exchange. “You’ve got the wrong Deuteronomy. If it’s the Rod you’re looking for, you’d be far better asking my brother, he’s the expert.” </p><p>“Yes, we already did. Your brother is the man who’s gone missing.”</p><p>Well, fuck.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There are few things in life I love more than silly 80s/90s adventure movies, and this passion-project of a fic was born of that love and my obsession with Cats. It should be updated fairly often, now that my country is back in lockdown I have a lot more time on my hands!<br/>A note on our fave Old Deuteronomy - in this fic I’m going by my HC that canon Old Deut is Munk and Tugger’s grandfather, instead of the more popular take that he’s their father. Old D had a son who was Munk and Tugger’s father, but the apple fell not so close to the tree, and he was more of an absentee. This affected Munk and Tugger in different ways, which will be delved into more in due course. But for now, Tugger is absolutely that super hot professor that the students are all in love with and write ‘love you’ on their eyelids for.<br/>(I personally have A LOT of feelings about studying ye olde Greek, and many of them are mingled with varying levels of fury and despair. I may have projected onto poor Tugger somewhat.)</p><p>The next chapter will be put up very soon, just as soon as my beta is done with it! I just have a few wee things to iron out. Misto will be introduced! This first chapter is more of a set up for the rest of the fic, the action really starts in chapters 2 and 3. Hopefully it wasn’t too much of an info dump, apologies if that’s how it came across.</p><p> </p><p>Come be my friend on tumblr (afairytalestray)! </p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Andiamo a Venezia!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tugger drove to Munkustrap’s home quickly, stopping only to pick up Plato on the way. As he suspected, Plato was as shocked as he was about the whole thing. Tugger hadn’t really expected him to know anything, but he knew Plato kept in touch with Munkustrap from time to time. They were reasonably good friends, he thought. At this point, Plato was probably closer than he was to his brother. However, last Plato had heard, Munkustrap was in Venice and enjoying his work. </p>
<p>Tugger pulled into the quiet suburban street. The trees lining the road were green and full, casting dancing shadows in the breeze. Tugger gave an involuntary twitch, he had never wanted to come back here. It had been a nice enough place to grow up in, but that house had stopped being a home a long time ago. He had no idea why Munkustrap still lived there. Tugger had moved out as soon as he was able, and would have sold the damn thing if he could’ve. Maybe Munkustrap was better able to remember the happy parts of their childhood or something. It seemed a lifetime ago now.</p>
<p>“You’re very quiet,” Plato said tentatively, feeling the air, “I’ve never seen you concerned for him before.”</p>
<p>“My brother is a bookworm, he has no place in the field,” Tugger said shortly.</p>
<p>Plato, wisely, didn’t push the subject. With a resigned sigh, Tugger parked up in the driveway. The whole place was extraordinarily neat, considering Munkustrap had been gone for… well, a while, presumably. Not a weed was out of place. He approached the front door, reaching instinctively for the spare key hidden under the windowsill. Some things never changed. However, when they reached the door, it was unlocked. That was odd. Munkustrap, responsible, routine-loving Munkustrap, had never forgotten to lock the door a day in his life. </p>
<p>Tugger shoved the door, and pushed roughly into the house. </p>
<p>“Dear God!” Plato gasped from behind him.</p>
<p>The living room looked like a bomb had hit it. Pictures had been ripped from the walls, shattered glass littered the floor around their feet. Doors were half-torn from their hinges. Vases were overturned, chairs were lying on their backs, books had been pulled from shelves and dumped on the faded carpet. Tugger waded through the debris of the living room to the still-hideously-tiled kitchen beyond. It was in a similar sort of state, although with an additional surprise attack from the slippery wet floor - the refrigerator door was hanging open. Tugger slammed it shut, he had <em> not </em>almost fallen flat on his face, thank you very much, and headed back through to the living room.</p>
<p>“What’s he gotten himself into?” Plato moaned, still frozen in the doorway.</p>
<p>“Whatever it is, he’s in way over his head,” Tugger growled, picking his way over to the study, looking for something, anything, that might give him some sort of clue. Nothing. His eyes caught on an old family photograph which had been knocked over. Tugger knelt down to pick it up, nearly slicing his finger open on the broken glass of the frame. It was a little faded from time, but the happiness on all their faces was clear. It was the last picture taken of the five of them before his grandfather died. Before everything went to shit. </p>
<p>“Tugger!” Plato called from the other room. Tugger dropped the picture back on the desk. Heading back, he saw Plato crouched by a scrunched up pile of papers.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“It’s today’s mail, and it’s been opened.”</p>
<p>That couldn’t be good. Unless Munkustrap was hiding under the stairs or something, he was in a very dangerous situation. Tugger was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to leave this house, although in a different way than how he usually felt about the place.</p>
<p>Wait… mail!</p>
<p>Struck by a sudden realisation, Tugger hurled himself out of the front door and dived for his car. He wrenched open the glove compartment, and thank god! The little diary was exactly where he had left it. He let out a sigh of relief. Whoever had searched the house, opened the mail, they were looking for this, he knew it. Every clue, every discovery his father and brother had ever made about the Rod of Asclepius, they were written in this diary. </p>
<p>“Munkustrap must’ve known what he was doing.”</p>
<p>Tugger jumped. He hadn’t noticed Plato follow him out to the driveway.</p>
<p>“He must have known something was wrong,” Plato continued. “So he sent it to you to keep it safe.”</p>
<p>Tugger very much did not want to think about that.</p>
<p>“Van Zonderen did say he suspected Hidden Paw involvement,” Tugger said, “they must want this pretty badly.” Plato flinched. Tugger fought off a mad desire to laugh. Although he doubted highly that Munkustrap had intended it so, he had pretty much just made Tugger the number one target of a dangerous criminal organisation to keep a book safe. Classic Deuteronomy. </p>
<p>“Do you believe in the Rod, Plato?” he mused, thumbing through the diary.</p>
<p>“I’m not sure what I believe anymore, honestly.”</p>
<p>“In any case, I’d better contact Van Zonderen. I suppose I’ll be taking that ticket to Venice now.”</p>
<p>“Make it two.”</p>
<p>“Are you insane? You actually want to get involved in something that almost certainly involves the Hidden Paw? You are aware that they’re probably-”</p>
<p>“The most dangerous criminal organisation in the world?” Plato finished. “Yes, Tugger, I am. But… you’re always saying more field experience would be good for me-”</p>
<p>“Come on, this is hardly what I meant-”</p>
<p>“But not only that,” Plato said loudly, “Munkustrap is my friend. I’m coming. I’m helping.”</p>
<p>There was no arguing with that, as much as Tugger didn’t like it.</p>
<p>“Fine,” he relented, “but I refuse to hold your hand if you don’t like flying.”</p>
<p>Plato snorted.</p>
<p>“I’ll be absolutely fine flying!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next day, Van Zonderen saw them off on the airstrip. Once again, the man was as excitable as a child in a toy shop.</p>
<p>“Now, when you arrive in Venice, I’ve arranged for your brother’s assistant to come meet you at the pier. I have an apartment in Venice, a lovely piece of architecture, I’m sure you’ll agree when you see it, which you are free to make use of during your stay. Good luck, dear boys!” He grasped and firmly shook each of their hands, eyes sparkling with barely contained glee, like a match when first struck. Plato stepped away with a nod, heading towards the aircraft. Tugger made to follow, but Van Zonderen grasped his arm quickly. “Be very careful, Dr. Deuteronomy. Don’t trust anyone, you understand?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, thanks.” Man, this guy was weird. Tugger awkwardly pulled his arm free from Van Zonderen’s surprisingly firm grip, and fluffed up the collar of his flight jacket. Van Zonderen nodded, but did not drive off until Tugger was on board the aircraft.</p>
<p>Plato, it turned out, despite the confidence of his earlier declaration, was absolutely <em> not </em>fine flying. Tugger appreciated that it was not for everyone, and that the first time was very strange, but after four flights, three changeovers and over fifty hours of travel, he was about ready to rip Plato’s head off. His foul mood was not helped by studying the pages of Munkustrap’s diary, many of which were complete gibberish to him, but he knew that learning everything he could from it would only help once they arrived.</p>
<p>Finally, <em>finally</em> they landed in Italy, and hopped on a boat that would take them into the city of Venice. After several days in stale high-altitude cabins, sitting on the deck of a boat in the sunlight was remarkably pleasant, with the breeze blowing through his hair and the faint but fresh smell of the sea calming his frayed nerves. The boat pulled into the pier, and Tugger and Plato grabbed their cases and stepped off.</p>
<p>“How will we recognise Munkustrap’s assistant?” Plato asked suddenly. Tugger stopped in his tracks. That was a very good question. Tugger hadn’t thought to get a description, or even a name from Van Zonderen.</p>
<p>“I have no idea,” he admitted, carrying on down the pier. “Hopefully they’ll recognise us.”</p>
<p>“Dr. Deuteronomy?” a voice called from behind them, as if on cue.</p>
<p>Tugger turned, and was suddenly face-to-face with the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his entire life. Well, face-to-face wasn’t exactly accurate, Tugger stood about a head taller than the other man, who was slim, with black curly hair that shone in the sunlight, and dazzling big brown eyes. He was young, perhaps only a year or two behind Tugger’s 24. He wore a white shirt with a black bow tie that was frankly too adorable to be allowed, beneath a black jacket with white buttons and trim. Tugger was momentarily blinded, but quickly pulled himself together and turned on his signature charm.</p>
<p>“Tugger Deuteronomy, famed explorer and unrivaled treasure hunter, at your service, gorgeous,” he announced, fluffing his collar and giving a theatrical bow which generally guaranteed swooning and amazement. </p>
<p>However, the man merely raised an eyebrow and said nothing. Folding his arms, he shot Tugger a deeply unimpressed look. Tugger stalled, quickly realising he wasn’t going to get the response he was looking for.</p>
<p>“Ah,” he said with a nod. He could still save this! “Have I to guess your name?” He made a show of looking the other man up and down appreciatively. “Then I suppose I’ll call you Buttons, because not only are you wearing them, you’re also quite as cute as one.</p>
<p>The shorter man sighed, and looked Tugger straight in the eye.</p>
<p>“Mistoffelees Jones. Misto, for short. I’m Munkustrap’s assistant, and I’ve to take you to your apartment here.”</p>
<p>Lovely name. Quite as lovely as the man himself. He had a pretty voice too, sort of mostly English, but with a hint of an accent. German, perhaps, or Austrian, Tugger couldn’t quite tell. Plato stepped forward and introduced himself, shaking his hand.</p>
<p>The beautiful Mistoffelees turned smartly on his heel and set off down the pier, leaving Tugger to rush after him, still slightly dazed. They began to walk down the narrow Venetian streets, and Mistoffelees gave them a short overview of the current situation.</p>
<p>“The last time I saw Munkustrap was in the library. He was very close to tracking down the second brother’s tomb. I’d never seen him so excited, he was giddy as a schoolboy.”</p>
<p>“Who, Munkustrap? Attila the Professor? You’ve got to be kidding. He was never giddy, even when he <em> was </em>a schoolboy!” Tugger exclaimed. Mistoffelees ignored him. Not one to give in so easily, Tugger swiped a flower from a nearby window.</p>
<p>“Permets-tu?” he asked, jogging forwards so they were walking side by side.</p>
<p>“I normally don’t,” he answered, looking straight ahead.</p>
<p>“Nor do I,” Tugger said with a grin. “Mais on ne me rend pas justice.”</p>
<p>This time Mistoffelees did turn to look at him, and Tugger shot him his most charming smile.</p>
<p>“Sois sérieux,” Mistoffelees said, holding Tugger’s eye.</p>
<p>“Je suis farouche,” Tugger replied, reaching to tuck the flower into Mistoffelees’ lapel. Mistoffelees allowed him to do so, and Tugger could have sworn he saw the corner of his lips quirk. However, he quickly dropped his gaze and continued to walk. </p>
<p>Tugger smiled at his back. He had been correct, it made sense that Mistoffelees would probably be more interested in someone with some brains, or at least respond more positively to someone who had read a book at some point - he appeared to have struck gold with classic Hugo. Tugger filed that knowledge away in his mind for future consideration; his usual brand of brawny bravado and swagger probably wouldn’t be much help here. But no matter, the usual had grown very boring indeed. Variety was the spice of life after all!</p>
<p>“Tugger!” Plato hissed, grabbing his arm and shooting him a warning look. </p>
<p>“What? It’s just some harmless flirting!” Tugger shot back, although keeping his voice low.</p>
<p>“Munkustrap will <em> murder </em>you if you sleep with another one of his assistants!” </p>
<p>“Oh Plato, Plato, Plato. Who said anything about sleeping together? And even if I did, since I’m literally here to rescue my dearest older brother, I reckon he could let it go, don’t you think?”</p>
<p>Not waiting for a reply, he dashed forward to walk beside Mistoffelees, who again made no acknowledgment of his presence. </p>
<p>“Do you like it?” Tugger asked.</p>
<p>“Such a shame that by tomorrow it’ll have faded.” </p>
<p>Tugger paused. Mistoffelees’ tone was even, his expression giving nothing away. Was he flirting back? Tugger couldn’t tell, and that excited him greatly.</p>
<p>“Why, then tomorrow I’ll steal you another!”</p>
<p>“I’d rather you didn’t.”</p>
<p>Ouch. That was cold. Had Tugger misread the situation before? He couldn’t think of a response, his pride stung.</p>
<p>“I hate to interrupt,” Plato interjected loudly, “but we’re here for a reason.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Mistoffelees said breezily, as though he hadn’t just brutally shot Tugger down in flames, “I have something to show you.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a scrap of paper. </p>
<p>“Roman numerals?” Plato inquired, looking closely at the paper before passing it to Tugger.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <strong>III, VII, X</strong>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Three, seven, ten,” Tugger read aloud.</p>
<p>“I left Munkustrap working in the library,” Mistoffelees stated. “He sent me to the map section to find an ancient plan of the city, but when I got back to his table he was gone, with all of his papers except for that scrap which I found by his chair.”</p>
<p>“You didn’t see or hear anything weird?” Tugger asked.</p>
<p>“We’ve been told that the Hidden Paw may be involved,” Plato prodded.</p>
<p>Mistoffelees froze on the spot, and Plato almost walked into him.</p>
<p>“No,” he said quietly, after a beat. “And I think I would have, it’s not a very large library. Honestly, it was as if he just got up and walked out in silence.”</p>
<p>His tone was matter-of-fact, but Tugger spotted his hands subconsciously wringing together. He gently placed a hand on Mistoffelees’ shoulder.</p>
<p>“Hey, Misto, don’t worry too much about him, okay? Trust me, we’ll find him, that’s what I’m here for. And if he has just wandered off and got lost or something, I will personally kick his ass into the middle of next week.”</p>
<p>Honestly, that didn’t seem likely at all, but the confidence of his reassurance seemed to have done the trick. Again he noticed Mistoffelees’ lips quirk as if he were going to smile at Tugger, but again he moved on before Tugger could see if he did or not. But the slight twitch itself was apparently enough to give him butterflies in his stomach. He indulged them for a second, before mentally giving himself a slap. <em>Get a grip, Tugger</em>, he told himself. <em>Yes, he’s cute, but we have a job to do here.</em></p>
<p>They turned a corner to see a grand old stone church, overlooking a pretty square, cheerfully illuminated in the late afternoon sun.  </p>
<p>“That’s the library,” Misto stated, leading them across the square and over a small bridge. “Van Zonderen’s apartment is quite close by, just a few minutes this way.”</p>
<p>“That’s the library?” Tugger exclaimed with a low whistle. “Not bad.”</p>
<p>“Looks more like a church!” Plato said.</p>
<p>“It used to be,” Mistoffelees said with a nod. “The columns inside were brought back as spoils of war after the sacking of Byzantium during the crusades. It’s closed now, but we’ll be able to see them tomorrow.”</p>
<p>They walked along another few streets. Tugger could feel the exhaustion start to settle in and his feet began to drag, his shoulder aching from carrying his case. He could have sung for joy when Mistoffelees ducked into a narrow alley and unlocked one of the old-fashioned wooden doors halfway down it.</p>
<p>“The second floor is ours,” he explained, heading up the staircase. Tugger admired the view for a moment, almost forgetting his tiredness when Plato coughed pointedly. Shooting his friend a shit-eating grin, he followed Mistoffelees up to their borrowed apartment. The inside was beautiful, bright and airy with a large amount of space that didn’t seem possible when he had seen the building from the outside. Sunlight streamed through large glass doors leading to a balcony overlooking the canal below, illuminating clean white walls, wooden ceilings and furniture. Very modern. Very fancy. It was probably the nicest apartment Tugger had ever been in.</p>
<p>After a brief tour Tugger was more than ready to call it a night, and headed off to what had been Munkustrap’s room. As expected, it was painstakingly neat and completely spotless. Tugger sighed and flopped down onto the bed, not bothering to get changed, and let sleep take him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>2019 Misto’s wee jacket was absolutely adorable and you can’t change my mind. </p>
<p>The French reads: “Do you permit it?”/ “May I?”<br/>“You’re doing me an injustice”<br/>“Be serious”<br/>“I am wild”<br/>They’re some of my favourite lines from Victor Hugo’s ‘Les misérables’, spoken by Enjolras and Grantaire. Basically Tugger is showing off and wanting to impress Misto with his book smarts.<br/>SO here’s the thing. Tugger, Plato and co. are supposed to be American. I, however, am very much not American. Misto speaks British English, which I am far more comfortable with. So if anything looks a bit weird, that’s probably why! I did try really hard to make it seem authentic, I swear.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. X Never Marks the Spot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Chapter 3 is finally here! I'm sorry it took so long, the holidays were a bit crazy. The main body of this fic is actually already written, it's just in the process of the final edit and beta-reading. It definitely won't get abandoned!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There were two things Tugger learned over the following days: </p>
<ol>
<li>Mistoffelees Jones was not a morning person.</li>
<li>Munkustrap had left behind absolutely nothing for him to work with, not even the slightest hint of a clue. </li>
</ol>
<p>Tugger meticulously searched his bedroom, as well as the whole apartment, from top to bottom, and also went over the entire library with a fine-tooth comb. He read the diary from cover to cover again and again, analysing every page for any hidden hints that Munkustrap might have left him, but again, nothing. The Roman numerals also seemed to be a dead end. They had scoured every book Munkustrap and Mistoffelees had ever looked at in the library, trying every combination of the numerals with page numbers, references and even line numbers! It was tiring and extremely boring work. </p>
<p>His growing dark mood was unaided by the fact that he was still unable to make any progress with Mistoffelees. Truly, he was absolutely stunning. Tugger was in awe. Not only was he gorgeous, but he was also incredibly intelligent. He was sharp, a quick-thinker, had a well-rounded knowledge of history and archaeology, understood Latin and Ancient Greek, and he also spoke German and English fluently, with near perfect Italian and French to boot. All in all, he was the brightest person Tugger had ever taken a liking to. But although they had shared a moment or two here and there, Mistoffelees was incredibly difficult to read, and nigh on impossible to get close to. </p>
<p>Despite that, Tugger could feel a massive crush growing. Something about Mistoffelees was drawing him in. The other at times seemed to be interested in him, but then hit a wall, as if suddenly remembering he was supposed to not like him. It confused and intrigued Tugger. Maybe it was because all of his best moves weren’t working? None of them were! That was fascinating. It had never happened before - Tugger had never once struck out with anyone he showed an interest in, male or female. Usually all it took was a wink and a flash of a smile! But not this time. At the moment, he was currently holding back on too much active flirting, not wanting to be a creep, instead trying to puzzle out why Mistoffelees had taken a dislike to him in the first place. Progress was… lacking, to say the least.</p>
<p>In any event, mornings were fast becoming Tugger’s favourite time of day. Before his frustration at Munkustrap could kick in when they got to the library, Tugger got to see Mistoffelees shuffle tiredly into the kitchen, hair sticking up all over the place, rubbing his eyes and barely noticing who or what was around him. In those moments he looked so adorable that Tugger just wanted to wrap a blanket around him and pull him into his chest. Once he had woken up fully, Mistoffelees’ walls went back up with a furious vengeance, but those early morning moments were glorious.</p>
<p>The time spent in the library was less so. Tugger was sick and tired of looking over dusty old tomes for non-existent secret messages; his back hurt, his eyes hurt, his muscles were probably starting to wither away from lack of use. He tapped his pencil against the desk, gaze roaming across the page in front of him without absorbing anything, mind wandering.</p>
<p>“Do you mind?” Mistoffelees hissed, snapping him out of his daze.</p>
<p>“Eh?” Oh, right, he was still drumming the pencil. He dropped it and closed the book in front of him with a sigh.</p>
<p>“I you haven’t found anything in that book, we haven’t checked these ones yet.” Misto pushed three more huge volumes towards him and Tugger groaned.</p>
<p>“I really don’t think these numerals have anything to do with books, Buttons,” he moaned. He was certain of it, although he didn’t know why. It was just an instinct, but he had learned a long time ago to trust his gut.</p>
<p>“Well, if you have a better idea, I’d love to hear it!” Mistoffelees replied waspishly.</p>
<p>Yikes.</p>
<p>“Look,” Tugger said, carefully controlling his tone, “Cut me some slack. I appreciate you’re used to Munkustrap and his brilliance, and that I do things very differently, but could you at least try to work with me here?”</p>
<p>“I’d be more than delighted to follow through on any idea you might come up with, except that <em> you haven’t come up with any, have you</em>?”</p>
<p>Tugger felt his eye twitch with irritation.</p>
<p>“Have I done something to offend you or something?”</p>
<p>Mistoffelees glared at him, but turned his attention back to the book in front of him. As he did, Tugger could have sworn he heard him mutter “treasure hunters”. </p>
<p>“IS<em>THAT</em> WHAT THIS IS ABOUT?” Tugger exploded. “YOU DON’T LIKE ME BECAUSE OF MY <em>JOB</em>? ARE YOU SERIOUS? YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW ME!” </p>
<p>“Believe me,” Mistoffelees snapped, “I’ve met plenty of people like you! Self-proclaimed Treasure Hunters who only care about their ego, obsessed with finding the next rare thing just to show off, wreaking havoc on invaluable ancient sites, and then selling what they took back to the people they stole from in the first place! You’re no better than the Hidden Paw!”</p>
<p>“I am <em> so</em>! I don’t steal shit! That’s not who I am or what I do at all!”</p>
<p>“You said you were a treasure hunter, you boasted of it the first time we met!”</p>
<p>“Well, yeah, but I’m legit! Government offices hire me to hunt for their lost and stolen treasures, but most of the time when I find them I leave them where they are and just note how I got there! I only move them if the location is unstable or if someone else’s taken them and the people want them back or something! I’m not a thief!”</p>
<p>“Then ‘treasure hunter’ isn’t exactly an accurate job description, is it?”</p>
<p>“I… maybe not, but it sounds way cooler than, I don’t know, cartographer or delivery boy or something!”</p>
<p>Mistoffelees didn’t respond right away, giving Tugger a weird look he couldn’t figure out.</p>
<p>“Hmm,” he said, significantly more calmly, “I disagree.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?” Tugger snapped, his temper still flared up. “Well, all due respect, Buttons, but you’re kind of a nerd.”</p>
<p>“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.” </p>
<p>Without another word he gathered up his books and swept from the table, leaving Tugger to fume and stammer uselessly at his back, and then try and defend himself against an irate librarian who had come to tell them off. </p>
<p>“What was that about?” he hissed after the librarian had stalked off. </p>
<p>Plato lifted his head from the book he’d been hiding behind.</p>
<p>“Don’t look at me, I’m not getting involved.” </p>
<p>“Coward,” Tugger grumbled, pulling a book towards him and trying to concentrate once more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Although that day had hardly gone what even the most optimistic person would call well, somehow, afterwards, things with Mistoffelees got a lot easier. He became a lot more… was ‘friendlier’ the right word? At the very least, more open to working with him. Once he had calmed down, Tugger supposed he understood. Many of his fellow treasure hunters were <em> exactly</em> as Mistoffelees described, they really were little more than pirates; and, well, he was used to being a disappointment compared to Munkustrap, so that was nothing new. It would be a lie to say that his spirits hadn’t soared when Misto had disagreed about what was cooler, but Tugger was aware that that was slightly pathetic. </p>
<p>Still, as time went by, it cheered him to learn that what he had originally perceived as aloofness in Misto’s attitude was actually introversion. He was, it turned out, very awkward around anyone he was unfamiliar with, and would shy away from scenes that were loud and/or crowded. Tugger would watch Misto happily chat away with the staff of the library, but then bow his head and stammer his way through interactions with strangers. If he had heard anything about Tugger from Munkustrap, it made sense that he would keep him at arm’s length. He seemed to have decided to start over fresh though, an olive branch that Tugger happily grasped. They appeared to have reached an unspoken balance that Misto would be less cold and Tugger would tone down on the flirting. He couldn’t drop it entirely though; he was only human, and Misto was still extremely attractive.</p>
<p>The more amiable atmosphere between them proved to be very useful in more ways than one. Aside from making Plato far more comfortable, Tugger found himself more productive than before, which was excellent because not only was coming up with fresh ideas making the work more bearable, but being smart was his only way of showing off that Misto seemed to respond to. </p>
<p>He was on his way back from the maps section one day when he spotted it. Dropping the papers he was carrying in a heap on the floor, he sprinted over to the Byzantine columns that Misto had spoken about on their first day. </p>
<p>“I must be blind,” he muttered.</p>
<p>Carved into the stone above his head was the Roman numeral III.</p>
<p>“Find something?” Mistoffelees materialised out of thin air at his side, with Plato hurrying along after him. Tugger pointed at the column and cast his eyes around the room. Yes! Over there! The column diagonally opposite was marked VII. </p>
<p>“Holy shit,” Plato breathed.</p>
<p>“Told you they didn’t have anything to do with books,” Tugger smirked.</p>
<p>“Shut it,” Misto said, but there was no venom in it. He elbowed Tugger in the side playfully and stepped over to the VII column. “Where’s the ten?” he breathed, eyes sparkling with excitement.</p>
<p>“Look around for the ten!” Tugger whisper-called. None of the other columns were marked, but Tugger had a good feeling. This was it, he knew it. He climbed a clanking metal spiral staircase to the upper floor, but saw nothing, not until he turned back and looked over the railing and almost laughed out loud. There it was, a massive grey X tiled slap-bang in the middle of the design of the floor. For literally the first time in his entire archaeological career, X marked the spot.</p>
<p>“Munkustrap wasn’t looking for a book about the second brother’s tomb, he was looking for the tomb itself!” Tugger thought out loud, as he threw himself back down the stairs and crouched down next to the centre of the X. “It’s here, it’s in the library, you said yourself it used to be a church!”</p>
<p>“It did,” Misto said, crouching down next to him. He ran a hand across the tiles, stopping over the centre. He gave it a tap. “It’s hollow,” he whispered.</p>
<p>“We’re getting under there,” Tugger declared, jumping to his feet. Looking around, he grabbed a tarnished brass stanchion closing off one of the isles. Unhooking the fraying rope, he lugged the pole back to the X.</p>
<p>“Plato,” he said quickly. “Go knock something over, or pretend to fall or something.” The last thing they needed was that nosy librarian to come running. Of course, it was likely that someone would eventually notice that he had ripped a large hole in the floor, but later rather than sooner would be preferred. Plato nodded and rushed off, and Tugger brought the stanchion down onto the tiles with a deafening crash.</p>
<p>Three good hits was enough to break away a section of the tile, which fell downwards into a dark space below with an echoing clatter. Bingo. Tugger heaved the rest of the tile away to leave a gap that would just about fit a person.</p>
<p>“Lower me down,” Misto said enthusiastically, sitting down and swinging his legs round to hang over the precipice. Tugger reached for his hands and slowly and carefully eased him down. He was slightly surprised, but mostly excited that Misto was so eager to get involved in the dirty work. He turned to Plato, who had returned and was staring anxiously at the hole, as if at any second a monster was going to leap out of it. </p>
<p>“Not feeling it?” Tugger smirked.</p>
<p>“I… well- well-, you need someone up here to keep watch, don’t you?”</p>
<p>“Of course we do,” Tugger said silkily. He reached into his pocket and took out Munkustrap’s diary. He pulled his embossment of the broken tablet out and shoved the book into Plato’s hands. “Take this then, and make sure no one follows us, especially that damn librarian.”</p>
<p>Plato nodded, looking relieved, and Tugger dropped himself into the darkness. </p>
<p>It wasn’t a far fall, and he landed in a crouch on what felt like rock. Crunchy rock. Uneven, crunchy rock that rattled under his feet.</p>
<p>“It’s a catacomb,” Misto’s awed voice floated out from the darkness. Sure enough, once his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Tugger saw he was standing on a pile of bones. A bit gross, but nothing new. He could make out the large, shelf-like structures surrounding them, and a tunnel ahead, leading into deep blackness. Tugger’s heart began to beat faster, the thrill of adventure pumping through his body. Finally, he could do something he was good at.</p>
<p>“Come on then, Buttons, let’s find our dead guy.” He jumped down a ledge and reached out to steady Misto as he followed. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out his lighter, flicking it on to create a small sphere of orange light that cast long flickering shadows around the creepy cavern. These ones were too new, they’d have to go further in to find the skeletons of the 1200s.</p>
<p>“Munkustrap will be outraged when he finds out you ripped a hole in the library floor,” Misto stated drily, sticking close behind Tugger as they carefully picked their way over to a dark tunnel at the other end of the tomb.</p>
<p>“Won’t he just? Just picture his face, it’ll be hilarious.” </p>
<p>“He’ll probably still be mad even if we find the second brother down here.”</p>
<p>“Buttons, we could find the Rod of Asclepius itself down here and he’d still be put out. He’s always been like that, even when we were kids. Always such a tattletale. He made pranking him so easy.”</p>
<p>“Which of course you would never take advantage of.”</p>
<p>“Of course not. I’ve always been a saint.”</p>
<p>Misto laughed fully at that, the pleasant round reverberating around the eerie chamber. They passed rows and rows of increasingly decrepit tombs, going further and further back in time, until they reached what looked like… </p>
<p>“A dead end?” Misto questioned, sounding disappointed.</p>
<p>“Hold this.” Tugger passed Misto the lighter as he ran his hands across the seemingly solid wall in front of them. He brushed and blew away some of the cobwebs. The wall didn’t seem so secure as it looked.</p>
<p>“Aha,” he breathed as his fingers brushed over an X-shaped mark. “Watch out.”</p>
<p>He leaned back, and rammed his shoulder into the wall. It shuddered violently and several large cracks appeared on the rock. He tried again, and this time it gave way, and Tugger tumbled face-first through the opening, landing in something cold and wet and disgusting.</p>
<p>“Tugger?” Misto called from behind him as he struggled to his feet, shaking himself off and cursing. His nose was assaulted by the smell of… petroleum? Yeah. There was a coat of it on top of a sloshing pool of water, which had flooded out the bottom of the chamber.</p>
<p>“It’s okay! Just be careful coming through.” Petroleum, eh? Struck by an idea, he reached over to the nearest skeleton. “Sorry about this, buddy,” he murmured before wrestling a humerus free. He wrapped the end of the bone in the skeleton’s rags and dipped it into the liquid at his feet. “Lighter?” he requested as Misto slipped through the gap with more grace than Tugger could ever hope to possess. He lit the torch and it was immediately set ablaze, filling the catacomb with light. Seriously, he could stick a well down here and retire!</p>
<p>“Curious,” Misto said, sloshing some of the petroleum at their feet, “is this normal?”</p>
<p>“It’s a first,” Tugger admitted, “but it’s definitely not the weirdest thing I’ve ever found in a tomb.”</p>
<p>“Do I even want to know?”</p>
<p>“Probably not.”</p>
<p>They struggled onwards. It became more and more difficult to move as they could no longer see their feet, and the ground became increasingly uneven. Tugger grasped Misto’s wrist with his free hand as they moved, for no other reason than to keep him steady, of course. It was slightly surprising that Misto allowed him to do it, but then again, gift horse, mouth. </p>
<p>“What’s that noise?” Misto piped up from behind him apprehensively. Tugger had heard it too, growing louder as they walked. It was a scratching, scuffling sort of sound.They turned a corner and were given the answer.</p>
<p>Rats. Hundreds of the things, squealing and scrambling over each other, looking like a particularly horrible slimy carpet. If carpets could move and squeak, that was. They shrieked and squabbled, scuttling across the rocks and scattered bones around them. Disgusting, but he’d faced worse.</p>
<p>Misto, however, probably had not. Tugger felt him shudder. This was not a great introduction to field work. To Misto’s credit, he didn’t utter a word of complaint. Tugger redoubled his grip on him as the petroleum water climbed to around his waist, and ploughed forwards into a wider chamber. The pathway ended here. Several tombs lay half-submerged around them.</p>
<p>“It must be one of these,” Tugger said, “check the engravings for any symbols or signs you recognise.”</p>
<p>Misto nodded, and waded deeper into the room. Being shorter than Tugger, the petroleum was up to his chest. Tugger turned to the nearest tomb and examined it. Plenty of pagan imagery, but no snakes to be seen. Nonetheless, the artistry of the carvings was quite beautiful. On a regular day, this would be a once-in-a-lifetime find.</p>
<p>“Tugger! Over here!”</p>
<p>Tugger splashed his way across the cavern, to where Misto was examining a tomb on a ledge. His fingers brushed away the dust to reveal a slightly faded, but unmistakable twisted snake. They had found it! Together, they heaved off the lid of the stone sarcophagus to reveal the remains of the second brother.</p>
<p>“This is it!” Tugger breathed. He passed the torch to Misto and scrambled up on top of the sarcophagus. There, wrapped in the bone arms of the second brother, was the second part of Van Zonderen’s tablet. Tugger felt a rush of exhilaration that he had never associated with the Rod before. Standing here, where no one had set foot in centuries, looking down at tangible proof that at least some part of the legend was true, was something else entirely. Blowing away some of the dust, he pulled out his embossment of the first marker. It was a perfect match. He hurriedly pushed aside the bones to copy the second half.</p>
<p>“Just like your brother, giddy as a schoolboy,” Misto remarked with a smile, hopping up beside him. Normally Tugger would have resented the remark, but right now he didn’t care.</p>
<p>“He’d kill to see this,” Tugger stated, continuing his work frenziedly, “but he’d never have made it past the rats, he can’t stand them.”</p>
<p>“What does it say?” Misto leaned in closer to read over Tugger’s arm as he finished, causing his heart to skip several beats.</p>
<p>At that moment, several loud shrieks pierced the silence of the tomb. Tugger’s head snapped up and he saw a lengthening trembling shadow - the rats again, only this time they were moving as one, heading straight towards them like a tidal wave, pursued by a bright orange light.</p>
<p>“Get back!” he yelled, pushing Misto away from him. “Back against the wall!” A plume of blistering red fire ripped through the catacombs, engulfing the tombs at a rapid pace. Misto’s eyes were blown wide as he stared, frozen in horror, at the rapidly approaching flames. Fuck! Tugger had to think quickly or they’d both be dead. He looked around for something, anything to help, as the heat threatened to overwhelm him.</p>
<p>“Here!” he shouted, an idea striking him. He gave the second brother’s sarcophagus a hard shove. It overturned and splashed into the water below. “Get under it, trust me!” He seized Misto’s arm and yanked him under, just as the flames reached their spot. They resurfaced in the air pocket beneath the tomb, fighting for breath. Misto was shaking like mad, but the plunge seemed to have restored his senses.</p>
<p>“The water must be coming from somewhere,” he gasped, struggling for breath, “a pipe or something!”</p>
<p>“Then that’s our ticket out of here!” Tugger cried, equal parts impressed and grateful for him pulling himself together in the madness. </p>
<p>Misto nodded quickly. He took a deep breath and dove down and Tugger quickly followed, the two of them searching underwater for an escape route, for a drain, for anything that would get them back to the surface in one piece. He swam forward a little when his eye caught a small opening in the side of the wall. That would have to do.</p>
<p>He kicked over and pulled Misto’s arm, gesturing wildly towards the hole. Together they ducked further down, and swam through the opening Tugger had spotted. It was definitely a drain of some sort. Tugger kicked hard upwards. Daylight! He could see it penetrating the water, they were close! He broke through the surface with a gasp, quickly knocked away the drain cover, and hoisted himself out onto the square in front of the library. A couple of tourists screamed but he ignored them. After taking a second to catch his breath, he turned to offer Misto a hand, but it wasn’t needed. Misto pulled himself out with relative ease and again with more elegance than seemed fair. He was still shaking slightly, soaked to the bone and undoubtedly freezing. His expression was fearful, but his eyes were alert as he looked around them. </p>
<p>As much as Tugger really wanted to find out who just tried to kill them, warm and dry had to be the priorities right now, preferably accompanied by a strong drink or two. He offered Misto an arm, ignoring the gawking tourists. What was their problem? Clambering out of drains was a perfectly normal thing to do. Hadn’t they ever tried it? Once again, to his surprise, Misto consented to being held onto as they headed over the bridge and down the narrow Venetian lanes Tugger had come to know well.</p>
<p>They had made it to the entrance of the apartment before they realised that neither of them had a key. Typical. With a groan of frustration, Tugger started to jimmy the lock. He had just begun to struggle with the door when it suddenly flew open, and he was greeted by a gun to the face.</p>
<p>Almost immediately it dropped and he saw Plato, whose eyes were red and puffy.</p>
<p>“Tugger! Thank God you’re alive, oh Jesus, I was so worried; fuck, are you guys okay? Tugger, I’m so so sorry, I panicked, I didn’t know what to do, I thought you guys were dead, I was freaking out, Christ I’m so sorry, I ran, I didn’t mean to, I couldn’t stop myself, I’m the worst, I’m sorry, oh my God, I’m sorry, I’m-”</p>
<p>“Plato!” Tugger interrupted, cutting him off entirely. “Please, get out of the way. I really need a fucking drink.”</p>
<p>“Yes, right, I’ll get that, are you okay, do you need-”</p>
<p>“Plato!” Tugger’s voice broke slightly. “<em>Move</em>.”</p>
<p>Plato stumbled backwards, still apologising profusely, but Tugger tuned him out. He staggered through to the living room, kicking the door shut behind him. Misto ducked in front of him, and collapsed face-first onto the couch with a groan. Hopefully he wouldn’t catch a fever, Tugger thought anxiously, shifting forward. He seemed okay, but he really needed to get dry.</p>
<p>“Is he alright?” Plato gulped, looking terrified.</p>
<p>“Buttons, you still with me?” Tugger crouched down beside the couch and shook his shoulder gently. Misto twisted his head and squinted up at him in confusion for a moment, before flopping around onto his back and flinging an arm over his face, breathing heavily. Tugger squeezed his shoulder, awaiting the inevitable sting of rejection. He felt like he was standing on a precipice. Damn, Misto had just started warming up to him, and Tugger had proceeded to almost drown him. Smooth move, Deuteronomy. People love it when you endanger their lives. Misto was going to sit up and tell him to beat it; he wasn’t going to want anything to do with him after this. </p>
<p>Misto didn’t move for several moments; Tugger waited on tenterhooks. After what felt like several hours Misto eventually pushed himself upright.</p>
<p>“You call this archaeology?” he griped, rubbing his eyes.</p>
<p>After a beat of confusion, Tugger burst out laughing. Misto felt well enough to sass him, he was going to be alright.</p>
<p>“Go get yourself changed into something dry, and we’ll have a drink.”</p>
<p>Twenty minutes later Misto reappeared in the living room, looking considerably more calm and comfortable. His hair was looking particularly fluffy from being quickly towel-dried, and Tugger had to violently beat back the urge to reach out and run his fingers through it. It would be so soft! But with the day Misto had had, Tugger reckoned he’d be lucky to still have hands after if he tried it. At least he hadn’t immediately told Tugger to get lost, perhaps he still had a chance.</p>
<p>“Are you okay, Misto?” Plato asked timidly, passing him a glass of the whisky Tugger had dug out from a kitchen cupboard.</p>
<p>“Yes, I’m feeling much better, thank you,” he replied, taking the glass and settling himself down in the seat next to Tugger, who was attempting to fan the rubbing of the tablet he had made dry. He was optimistic, the paper had been mostly protected by his jacket pocket during their underwater adventure.</p>
<p>“So, Plato,” Tugger began, narrowing his eyes at his friend, “want to tell us what happened?” He tried to temper his tone, but he wouldn’t deny he was angry, and not even just for himself. Tugger was used to dangerous situations, in his line of work they were unavoidable, he could handle it. But this time Misto had been with him. Misto, who had no experience in the field, who had accidently gotten mixed up in the Deuteronomy family fiasco through no fault of his own… he could’ve been killed today. If anything happened to him, it would be Tugger’s fault, and he would never forgive himself. So Plato running off and leaving them? That rubbed him the wrong way.</p>
<p>“I’M SORRY!” Plato wailed loudly, causing them both to jump. “I’M SO SORRY! I was keeping watch, but then suddenly they were there, Tugger, the Hidden Paw!” Misto stiffened beside him, and Tugger’s eyes flicked to him, but he stayed quiet.</p>
<p>“The Hidden Paw showed up?” Tugger asked sharply, turning back to Plato.</p>
<p>“Yes! There were seven of them, they knocked me out! When I came to, some of them had followed you down, I didn’t know what had happened. I was scared, Tugger, I’m not brave like you are, I was scared that they got you, and that they would kill me next. They weren’t looking at me, so I ran. Except I didn’t know where to go, so I just came back here. I didn’t know what I was doing, I was just about to lose it when you showed up again. I know it was cowardly, and pathetic, I just-”</p>
<p>“Alright, alright!” Tugger waved his hands in the air, “Enough. It’s alright, Plato, we get it. The Hidden Paw showed up, of course you panicked.” It was understandable, but understanding the situation did not improve it at all.</p>
<p>“It really is okay, Plato,” Misto said kindly, “I panicked too, I completely froze up. Luckily for me, Tugger didn’t.” Plato still looked like he wanted to cry, but he flashed a grateful smile. Tugger thought that was pushing the truth a bit, but didn’t say anything.</p>
<p>“If it’s alright with both of you,” Misto continued, standing up, “I’m going to bed. I can help look over the tablet tomorrow, if you want, but right now I’m so tired I don’t think I’ll be much use.”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Tugger said softly. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”</p>
<p>“Yes, truly, I just really need some sleep.”</p>
<p>“Good night then, Buttons.”</p>
<p>“Must you call me that?”</p>
<p>“Yes, I must.”</p>
<p>A quiet snort.</p>
<p>“Good night, Tugger.”</p>
<p>Tugger fondly watched him go, before turning his attention back to Plato.</p>
<p>“I really am so-”</p>
<p>“It’s okay. Really, it is. It happens, alright? Sometimes you just freeze up.”</p>
<p>“You don’t,” Plato said glumly, his face flushed.</p>
<p>“I did, way back when I started. It’s normal. I just don’t tell anyone that part.”</p>
<p>Plato looked up with a hopeful smile, which Tugger was able to return genuinely. </p>
<p>“I think I’m going to turn in, too,” Tugger declared, gathering up his paper. He swirled the last of his drink in the bottom of the glass before downing it in one, and left the table.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here's another of my favourite hcs - caretaker Tugger! I love protective Tugger with every fibre of my being. I feel like he’s someone who’s pals with nearly everyone, but very selective about who he lets in any closer than that. There’s not a large number of people he truly cares about/fully trusts, but he’d do anything for that select few and would protect them with his life. So anyone who gets to his inner circle he’s super keen to keep close. He knows they can look after themselves, of course he does, but he’s a chronic worrier who can’t always express himself well - being a caretaker is in his nature. And if anyone ever betrays that trust, well… That’s the road I’m going with this, anyway, and it’ll come up later as well for sure. I’ve always seen him as someone who puts on a very confident front, but who is maybe overcompensating for an actual lack of self-esteem. He likes to laugh and brush things off, but he feels them, he just keeps it to himself. </p>
<p>I hope you enjoyed this chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Genius and the Screw-up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I do not have an excuse, other than life just going berserk for a while :( But it's here now, I hope you enjoy it ^^,</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tugger woke early the next morning, as suddenly and abruptly as if someone had slapped him in the face. Sunlight stubbornly poked its way through the windows, assaulting his eyes, and Tugger knew that attempting to return to sleep would be pointless. Besides, he thought, sitting up with a groan, there was work to be done. They finally had a copy of the complete tablet. Hopefully they would soon have some answers about this damn Rod.</p>
<p>He meandered through to the kitchen, made himself some coffee (he had finally worked out how to use the crazy Sintrax contraption, thank God), and settled at the table. Pulling out the embossment, he set to work.</p>
<p>Or at least, he tried to. Several hours later, and barely any progress had been made at all. Tugger was ready to start breaking things. The missing portion of the tablet, which he had hoped would contain a concise starting point for the stupid Asclepius quest, only contained more riddles. Plato had risen not long after him, and they had been going back and forth, round and around in circles trying to work the thing out all morning, but to no avail. Stupid healing stick! There had better be something decent that actually <em>existed </em>at the end of all this or he was going to revolt.</p>
<p>“We should just wake Misto,” Plato whined for the billionth time, “he’s been working with Munkustrap, he knows more about the Rod than both of us put together!”</p>
<p>“Let him sleep,” Tugger replied, also for the billionth time, “he’s earned it. He went through a lot yesterday, and we <em>can </em>figure this out!”</p>
<p>Plato looked mutinous, but didn’t argue. He was right, they both knew it, but Tugger couldn’t bring himself to disturb Misto after everything he had put him through yesterday. Guilt gnawed at him; despite his assurances, Misto had not been okay after it. Tugger had to be more careful.</p>
<p>“Read it again, the translation,” Plato said, massaging his temples. </p>
<p>Tugger sighed, pulling the scribbled passage over to him.</p>
<p>“The first half of the first column is just the Hippocratic Oath, but starting from the second piece, it says: <em> From the first cut, past the king’s throne and eastwards across his sea, he who would seek the Paean, the power of the asklepian, if he be worthy, shall be granted His power over death. Whence let him come; over hill and rock, to the canyon of the crescent moon in the House of Gods, wherein the Rod of Life resides forever.</em>” </p>
<p>“Absolute Gobbledygook,” Plato groaned, dropping his head onto the table.</p>
<p>“Tell me about it.”</p>
<p>“Hill and rock? Everywhere has those!”</p>
<p>“And there’s plenty of seas claimed by kings, too.”</p>
<p>“If we knew the ‘first cut’ bit we could probably work it out. Does Munkustrap really have nothing about it in his diary?”</p>
<p>“No. He’s got the second bit, sort of. There’s a map here,” Tugger said, opening up the diary, “he must have pieced it together from clues scattered throughout the whole history of the Rod of Asclepius quest, but there’s no names on it. He knew there was a settlement with a river heading south east into the mountains here, and then down into the crescent moon canyon. He knew everything, except where to begin.” He traced a finger along the lines of the map. A name, all they needed was one name, but the unhelpful tablet didn’t seem willing to provide it.</p>
<p>“The first cut might be one of those things that Asclepius lorists just know, and that’s why it seems so vague.”</p>
<p>“I know where you’re going with this,” Tugger growled in frustration. “Let. Him. Sleep.”</p>
<p>Again, Plato was right, Tugger knew he was, and it annoyed him.</p>
<p>“It’s past noon!” Plato retorted. “If we had woken him up to begin with we might already be done! The faster we work this out, the faster we can get to Munkustrap! Or do you care more about sleeping with his assistant than rescuing him?” </p>
<p>Tugger stood up so fast that his chair fell backwards, hitting the tiles with a clang, his hands curling into white-knuckled fists at his sides.</p>
<p>“Do you really want to go there?” he snarled.</p>
<p>“Yeah, actually I do!” Plato snapped back, also jumping to his feet. “I can’t tell anymore whether this whole thing is just an ego trip for you! Munkustrap’s life could be in danger, and you don’t even seem to care! You’re content to just take your time and dally! Now, I don’t know if that’s because you want to look cool and rebel against your family or you just don’t want to admit they were right about everything or what, but I do know that Munkustrap wouldn’t even sleep until he found you if this situation was reversed!”</p>
<p>“Too bad for you then, isn’t it, that it isn’t reversed and you’re stuck with me! The great and powerful Munkustrap’s frivolous little brother, who could be so <em>wonderful </em> if he just <em>applied himself</em>, instead of wasting his time job-hopping and sleeping around! We both know what I’m like, Plato, if you’re that mad about it why did you even come?”</p>
<p>“MAYBE BECAUSE I WAS SCARED THAT SOMETHING EXACTLY LIKE THIS WOULD HAPPEN! THAT YOU'D GET DISTRACTED BY SOME PRETTY FACE AND LOSE FOCUS ON WHAT’S ACTUALLY IMPORTANT!”</p>
<p>At that, Tugger lunged forward and seized Plato by the collar of his shirt. </p>
<p>“AND WHAT HELP HAVE YOU BEEN SO FAR?” he screamed into his face. “I’M THE ONE WHO WORKED OUT THE NUMERALS, WHO SCHLEPPED THROUGH DISGUSTING CATACOMBS TO FIND THE SECOND MARKER! I’M THE ONE WHO NEARLY GOT BLOWN UP AND HAD TO CRAWL THROUGH THE FUCKING PLUMBING TO ESCAPE WHILE YOU RAN AWAY WITH YOUR TAIL BETWEEN YOUR LEGS! DON’T TELL ME WHAT I DO AND DON’T CARE ABOUT!”</p>
<p>“Stop it! Both of you stop!”</p>
<p>Tugger’s face was barely an inch from Plato’s when he felt a hand curl around his wrist and pull him. Mistoffelees. He allowed himself to be manoeuvred back and took several deep breaths to try and ground himself.</p>
<p>“Good of you to finally join us,” Plato snapped viciously.</p>
<p>“Don’t you start on him-” Tugger began, his temper instantly flaring up again, but Misto held up a hand to stop him.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice very calm, “I forgot to set my alarm last night. However, I doubt you’re this angry because of that, so please don’t take it out on me.”</p>
<p>Plato opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to think the better of it. He stormed past both of them, muttering something about taking a walk.</p>
<p>“Yeah, you do that,” Tugger grumbled. </p>
<p>The door slammed.</p>
<p>“Are you alright?” Misto asked after a beat, crouching down to pick up Tugger’s chair.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” he replied with a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “We just… got really frustrated, started bickering about the tablet and it got out of hand. He said some stuff that apparently affects me more than I realised it did. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”</p>
<p>“I was already up. I was just finishing getting ready when I heard you shouting.”</p>
<p>Tugger winced.</p>
<p>“How much did you hear?”</p>
<p>“Not much, just the bit about crawling ‘through the fucking plumbing’, to use your oh-so-elegant phrasing. And you really should have woken me earlier, it is rather late.”</p>
<p>“Nah, it’s… You needed a break. I kinda put you through a lot yesterday.”</p>
<p>“Did you?” Misto raised his eyebrows, leaning on the back of the chair and looking amused. “Listen, Tugger, and I hesitate to say this for fear of bruising your ego, I know you consider yourself a flirt of the highest degree and talent, but there is absolutely nothing on God’s green earth you could’ve said or done to seduce me into following you through those catacombs if I hadn’t wanted to go. You’re not that good.”</p>
<p>Tugger was momentarily stunned speechless. That was how Misto saw it? Thank Christ! Relief flooded through him. </p>
<p>“Really? You’re making jabs at my ego? Attacking my Achilles’ heel? For shame, Buttons, for shame.”</p>
<p>“It’s not my fault your ego is so fragile,” he teased, a mischievous grin sliding onto his face.</p>
<p>“Don’t kick a man while he’s down,” Tugger bleated, clutching his chest in mock agony.</p>
<p>“I won’t, as long as you stop calling me Buttons.”</p>
<p>“... Nah, it’s alright, I’m not that down.”</p>
<p>“Somehow, that’s what I thought.”</p>
<p>“You drive a hard bargain, Buttons,”</p>
<p>“And you haven’t been told ‘no’ enough, Casanova.”</p>
<p>“Harsh. Although I am certainly a much more romantic improvement on the original, personally, I see myself as more of a Mercutio, if you’re making me Italian.”</p>
<p>Misto’s lips quirked.</p>
<p>“You would. So, you said you were having trouble with the tablet?”</p>
<p>“What? Oh, yeah, it’s here…”  </p>
<p>Damn. Plato was right, he was too easily distracted. It was wrong to say he didn’t care, though, he just struggled to focus on one thing for too long. Of course he cared. Despite everything, Munkustrap was still his brother, and Tugger would go to bat for him any time without question. That said, somehow he knew, instinctively, that his brother was okay. He was certainly worried, but being worried and getting stressed wouldn’t help the situation any, so he pushed it down. Whoever had Munkustrap would be absolutely mad to hurt him if they were after the Rod - he knew more about it than anyone. But he probably had been acting too blasé. He would have to apologise after Plato had cooled off.</p>
<p>Misto slid into the chair and leaned over the embossment, and began to scribble some notes on the side of it. He hummed slightly as he pored over the text, occasionally underlining different words. Tugger flopped down next to him and watched him contentedly for a few moments.</p>
<p>“We translated the completed text,” he said after several minutes of silence, flushing slightly. It didn’t seem like much. “But honestly, it meant nothing to us. We were hoping you’d be able to make more sense of it. It seems pretty vague to me.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Misto said absentmindedly, and Tugger wondered if he was actually listening. He seemed very absorbed. It was easy to forget sometimes that Misto was probably as invested in the Rod quest as Munkustrap and all the other maniacs that Tugger made a point of avoiding. For some reason, it didn’t bother him so much when it was him. Maybe because it wasn’t Misto’s entire personality and he was capable of talking and thinking about other things, unlike certain other people Tugger had met in his time. Being around him was pleasant, he hadn’t once questioned why, or made Tugger feel guilty about not taking on his father’s work, which usually happened when people realised that and were disappointed.</p>
<p>“By the way, Tugger, you were brilliant yesterday,” Misto said suddenly, breaking him out of his thoughts. “I didn’t thank you for it.”</p>
<p>“Hmm? Oh that? It was nothing.” For once, he really didn’t feel like showing off. Maybe he was coming down with something.</p>
<p>“No, it wasn’t,” Misto insisted, looking up from his work to catch Tugger’s eye. “Working out the numerals, getting into the tomb and then getting us both out of it in one piece - that was all you, so thank you. Your brother would be proud.”</p>
<p>“I highly doubt that, Buttons, but thanks. And… you’re welcome, I guess.”</p>
<p>Misto smiled warmly at him, and Tugger melted on the spot.</p>
<p>“Why would you doubt that?”</p>
<p>“He doesn’t really care what I do. If I’m being honest with you, my brother and I have barely spoken in years.”</p>
<p>“Really?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.” Tugger shifted in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck. “We had a pretty nasty fight a while back and never really got past it. We’re just… too different. Munkustrap is the good boy, diligently continuing dad’s research. I’m the screw-up. I prefer actually getting down into the dirt and digging things out with my own two hands.”</p>
<p>“That doesn’t make you a screw-up.” Misto laid his pen down and looked at him earnestly.</p>
<p>Tugger tried (in vain) to ignore how that made his heart soar. </p>
<p>“It does if you’re a Deuteronomy,” he said. “We’re supposed to be the high and mighty thinkers, not common diggers. I’m the family disappointment.” Usually, he liked to say that as a joke, to try and play it off like it was no big deal, but this time it came out more bitter than cocky.</p>
<p>“I never got the impression that Munkustrap thought that.”</p>
<p>Tugger let out a low chuckle.</p>
<p>“Don’t tell me he talked about me?”</p>
<p>“Not much,” Misto admitted, “but our families came up once or twice, and I always thought that he spoke fondly of you.”</p>
<p>“You sure you were talking to my brother? The real Munkustrap Deuteronomy? Not an imposter wearing his clothes?”</p>
<p>Misto laughed quietly. Jesus Christ, that laugh was adorable.</p>
<p>“Yes, I’m quite sure.”</p>
<p>“Huh… You got any siblings? Tugger asked, desperate to move the conversation away from his own.</p>
<p>“A twin sister, Victoria.”</p>
<p>“You guys get along?”</p>
<p>“Yes, very well, despite our differences. I couldn’t imagine not talking to her for years.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Tugger prompted.</p>
<p>“We’re not very alike, either. She’s very open and bubbly; she can make friends with most people very easily, a skill I certainly don’t have. We even look different, she’s blonde.”</p>
<p>“No kidding!”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Misto smiled. “She’s a ballet dancer, and far more suited to movement and physical activity than studying and being a ‘nerd’, as you would say.”</p>
<p>“I meant that as a very affectionate compliment, you know.”</p>
<p>“I’m sure you did.”</p>
<p>“Where is she now?”</p>
<p>“London. We moved from Innsbruck when we were younger to live with our uncle in England. I was studying there when Van Zonderen offered me the position of Munkustrap’s assistant.”</p>
<p>That explained his accent! And his bilingual-ness. Such an attractive quality. To be fair, in Tugger’s opinion most things about Misto were extremely attractive, and he would not apologise for thinking it.</p>
<p>“You know, if you did your hair like this,” Tugger reached over and swirled Misto’s hair into a coif, “you’d pass for quite the English gentleman!”</p>
<p>“Get off,” Misto laughed, swatting his hand away and shaking his hair loose. “It really needs cut, I…” He fell silent, a strange, slightly dreamy look crossing his face. </p>
<p>“Buttons? What’s up?”</p>
<p>“Of course!” he gasped suddenly. “Cut! God, I’m an idiot!” </p>
<p>“What?” Tugger said blankly, thrown off by the sudden change in atmosphere. Misto jumped to his feet and ran from the room, returning moments later with a large scroll in his hands. He swept everything off of the table with a dramatic flair that made Tugger proud, and spread the scroll out on the table, revealing it to be an old map of Europe.</p>
<p>“You just happened to have this in your bedroom?” he questioned in amusement, but Misto ignored him, poking at the middle of the map. His eyes were sparkling with excitement in the exact same way that Munkustrap’s did when he talked about the Rod, except it was Misto, so it was quite captivating. <em>What an adorable nerd</em>. For once, Tugger was sure that he wasn’t about to be bored to death.</p>
<p>“The first <em>cut</em>, the Rod of <em>Asclepius</em>, it’s so obvious! I can’t believe it took me this long!”</p>
<p>“Buttons, it took you like, ten minutes or something, and would you mind catching me up?”</p>
<p>“Asclepius! His name means ‘to cut open’!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m gonna need more than that.”</p>
<p>“It’s debatable, but it’s widely accepted that he was called that because he was the first mortal baby to be born via Caesarean section!”</p>
<p>“What, really?”</p>
<p>“Well, probably not, but it’s what the Ancient Greeks believed anyway. Look,” Misto said, diving under the table to retrieve the fallen embossment and shoving it under Tugger’s nose, his hands shaking slightly from excitement, “‘the first cut’ must be referring to the birth of Asclepius!”</p>
<p>Suddenly, it snapped into place in Tugger’s brain.</p>
<p>“His birthplace!” he gasped, and Misto nodded enthusiastically. “That must mean… Epidaurus, is it?”</p>
<p>“Not quite, Epidaurus was the first place to start worshipping Asclepius as a god. However, ancient mythographers regarded Trikke as the birthplace of Hepius, the boy who became that god!” Misto twisted and leaned over the map, pointing to a small dot in the middle of Greece labelled ‘Τρίκαλα’.</p>
<p>“Trikala? So the king’s throne would be…” Tugger looked around the dot, and mentally slapped himself. “Olympus, of course! The literal home of the Greek Gods. Stefani, the Throne of Zeus! So the king’s sea is actually just… the Aegean?”</p>
<p>“But that makes perfect sense, it’s named for Aegeus, the father of the hero Theseus, mythical king and one of the founders of Athens.”</p>
<p>“And,” Tugger suddenly remembered, “when this tablet was made in the twelfth century, a lot of the Aegean sea was owned by the Venetians, who called it the Archipelago, from the Greek meaning-”</p>
<p>“The ‘ruler sea’, yes!”</p>
<p>“So if you went straight eastwards from Olympus, you would land here, in… Çanakkale, Turkey.” Tugger leaned over Misto to trace his finger along the map. Hopefully he hadn’t completely butchered that pronunciation, although he doubted it. He squinted at the patch of land he stopped on, trying to see if there was anything special about it. </p>
<p>“From here Munkustrap knew where to go, look!” Misto cried. He grabbed the diary from where it hung precariously off the edge of the table and hastily flipped through it, stopping when he found the map with no names that Tugger had looked at earlier. “See here? It matches! There’s a river that flows from here all the way down to the canyon! It’s by Mt. Ida, which I actually think Homer mentions in the Iliad as ‘the house of Gods'!”</p>
<p>“Holy shit, we found it.”</p>
<p>“Yes!” Suddenly Misto jumped up and wrapped his arms around Tugger’s neck, hugging him. Tugger temporarily forgot how to breathe until Misto let go, smiling widely.</p>
<p>“Buttons,” he said weakly, “you’re a genius.”</p>
<p>“Well, yes, I suppose I am.”</p>
<p>They were now standing extremely close. Tugger didn’t step back. Misto’s hair smelled like coconuts. Tugger wanted to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him so badly, more than he’d ever wanted to kiss anyone in his life. He raised his hand slowly, gently brushing Misto’s cheek. His heart thumped deafeningly, and he was painfully aware of his own breathing. He looked into Misto’s eyes, to find him staring back at him. Fuck, he was so beautiful, Tugger could hardly stand it. They paused for a moment, their surroundings falling away. Misto blinked. He dropped his gaze and began to pull back, and Tugger thought he might just die if he let him go now. No. Throwing caution to the wind, Tugger leaned further forward and pressed their lips together.</p>
<p>Fireworks exploded in his stomach like the 4th of July. Misto gasped, but didn’t pull away, and Tugger felt bold enough to deepen the kiss. Misto’s arms slowly rose to curl around his neck again and Tugger groaned deeply, wrapping his own arms around Misto’s waist and pulling him closer. It was perfect, so perfect, he didn’t want it to ever end.</p>
<p>It did, eventually, tragically, and they broke off, gasping for air. Tugger felt immensely shaken up, but in a very good way. Misto’s face was flushed, his lips slightly swollen. For once, Tugger didn’t know what to say. Maybe nothing was necessary. He reached out his hand. Misto looked at it, then up into Tugger’s eyes. What he was looking for, Tugger didn’t know, but the question fled his mind when Misto took his hand, stepped forward and kissed him again. </p>
<p>This time was deeper, more intense. Tugger stumbled backwards, guiding them both through to the hall, unwilling to break them apart. His hand scrabbled on the door handle until it let them through and he fell back onto the bed, pulling Misto with him. All logic and reasoning deserted him, and he lost himself in the moment.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Finally amirite.<br/>Is it terribly obvious I enjoy doing dialogue? I hope I didn’t go too overboard with it.<br/>I love having Tugger show off to Misto like, look! I’ve read books! He’s trying so hard, bless him.<br/>Misto also did ballet when he was younger and really enjoyed it, but gave it up to focus on his studies. Tugger’s brain will short-circuit for several minutes when he finds this out. I do have a whole backstory for the twins and how they ended up living with their Uncle Bustopher, but I’m not sure if it’ll fit anywhere in the fic!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. A New Plan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tugger awoke the next morning feeling wonderful. He stretched slowly as his mind came to, leisurely rolling his joints and remembering where he was and… ah, what had happened last night. He rolled onto his side and saw Misto, still fast asleep and looking gorgeous. Tugger let out a happy sigh. He hadn’t expected Misto to be gone, exactly, but he had no idea where they now stood. Hopefully somewhere good, last night had been one of the best of his life and he would very much like to repeat the experience. The morning sunlight filtering through the curtains bathed the room in a warm golden light. Misto looked practically angelic. Tugger reached his hand over and gently brushed a curl away from his face. There, perfect.</p>
<p>Slowly, he eased out of bed, not wanting to disturb Misto. He surveyed his appearance in the mirror. Huh. Whereas some people could pull off the “just rolled out of bed” aesthetic, it wasn’t his best look. Not that he wasn’t always ravishing, it just took a little TLC to crank him up into the dashing, dapper Dr. Deuteronomy who induced swooning and marvel with but a glance. Throwing on some clothes, he tiptoed out to the hall, quietly closing the door behind him. Heading through to the kitchen, he jumped at seeing Plato sitting at the table nursing a coffee. A rush of guilt surged through him. With everything that happened afterward, he had entirely forgotten about their fight. Plato heard him approach, and turned to him with a sheepish look on his face.</p>
<p>“Morning,” he said meekly.</p>
<p>“Hey,” Tugger replied.</p>
<p>There was an awkward silence. They both determinedly looked anywhere but at each other as they struggled to find the right words.</p>
<p>“Look, Plato-” Tugger began, but he was cut off.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, Tugger, I was way out of line, I shouldn’t have said any of that and I really regret it; I was wrong to say you didn’t care, I know your relationship with Munkustrap is complicated, and it’s none of my business,” Plato said, rushing it all in one breath.</p>
<p>“It’s alright, Plato.” Tugger held up both his hands. “I shouldn’t have yelled like I did, that wasn’t right. It is complicated, but I swear, I do care, no matter what it looks like.”</p>
<p>“Are we still friends?”</p>
<p>“Of course we are, nerd.”</p>
<p>Plato’s face broke into a wide grin and the awkward air between them dissipated. </p>
<p>“Well?” Plato nudged eagerly. “Did you solve it?”</p>
<p>“Turns out you were right, bud. Misto cracked it in like, ten minutes. Turns out that Asclepius was pretty famously born by C-section, so the first cut refers to his birthplace in Trikala.”</p>
<p>“Holy shit. It’s so obvious when you say it like that.”</p>
<p>“Yup. Felt pretty dumb that we wrestled it for hours and he just came in and solved it right away like ‘presto!’,” Tugger said with a snap of his fingers</p>
<p>“That’s why he’s the expert, I suppose. Is he still in bed, by the way? I reckon I owe him an apology, too.”</p>
<p>“Uh… yeah, he is.”</p>
<p>Plato narrowed his eyes at him, and Tugger squirmed slightly.</p>
<p>“Whose bed is he in, Tugger? His, or yours?”</p>
<p>“Well, you see, Plato, yesterday was a very trying day and cracking the tablet was a euphoric moment that we may have gotten a little caught up in.”</p>
<p>Plato let out a deep sigh.</p>
<p>“Hey, man, I might have kissed him first, but it was all extremely mutual!”</p>
<p>Slowly, Plato’s exasperation morphed into an evil grin.</p>
<p>“Oh, Munkustrap is going to <em>kill</em> you.”</p>
<p>“No need to look <em> so</em> happy about that.”</p>
<p>Plato laughed, and Tugger found himself smiling along.</p>
<p>“Seriously, though, Plato. I think… It's different with him. I don’t want to dump him off. I think it could actually go somewhere. I like him, I really do.”</p>
<p>“I’m impressed, that sounded almost like a mature thought!”</p>
<p>“Shut up. Remember when you were obsessed with me and thought everything I did was awe-inspiring? Bring that Plato back.”</p>
<p>Plato just laughed good-naturedly.</p>
<p>“If you’re serious, Tugger, then I’m happy for you, of course I am. I think your timing is awful, though.”</p>
<p>“Can’t argue with that.”</p>
<p>Plato snorted and turned his attention to the map, still spread across the table from the day before.</p>
<p>“So from Trikala…”</p>
<p>“Past Olympus and across the Aegean, to land here at Çanakkale, Turkey,” Tugger pointed. “And from there we can follow Munkustrap’s map down this river into the canyon at Mt. Ida, which apparently Homer called ‘the house of Gods’.”</p>
<p>“Jesus, it’s <em> awesome</em>. When do we leave?”</p>
<p>“As soon as possible?” Misto appeared in the doorway, smiling at them. Tugger’s breath caught in his chest, causing Plato to smirk at him before standing up.</p>
<p>“Misto, about yesterday, I’m really sorry I came at you like that.”</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it. Emotions were running high, as I understand it.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, you could say that. So, eh, right away, you say?”</p>
<p>“There’s really no point waiting around, is there?”</p>
<p>“No,” Tugger interjected. “But Misto…”</p>
<p>“Yes?”</p>
<p>Tugger coughed and shot Plato a pointed look. His friend quickly squawked something about packing, and left the room hurriedly. Tugger took a deep breath.</p>
<p>“Are you sure about coming along?”</p>
<p>Almost immediately a chill fell over the room, so frigid that Tugger actually shivered.</p>
<p>“I see,” Misto said coldly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You got what you wanted, so now you cut me off?”</p>
<p>“What? No! I-”</p>
<p>“You’d still be fighting over the tablet if it wasn’t for me, and now you want to leave me behind?”</p>
<p>“No, it’s not like that, I-”</p>
<p>“I’m aware that I’m inexperienced in the field, but I’m not <em> useless</em>, you know.”</p>
<p>“Christ, I know that, believe me, I do!”</p>
<p>Misto merely glared at him. God, this was not going how he wanted it to at all! With an angry huff, Misto turned away from him. Completely out of ideas, Tugger maturely leapt forward in front of him to block the doorway.</p>
<p>“Look, Misto-”</p>
<p>“Get out of the way.”</p>
<p>“Jesus, Misto, just listen to me, will you?”</p>
<p>Misto glowered at him, but said nothing. Tugger dragged his hand through his hair.</p>
<p>“I’m <em> not</em> trying to ditch you, alright? That’s the last thing I want to do. Fuck, I’m trying to protect you! Look at how dangerous this shit has been so far, and if the Hidden Paw are involved it’s only going to get worse! Misto, I… if something happened to you, you didn’t sign up for all this, God, I just don’t want you to get hurt!” </p>
<p>Fuck. How the hell did people deal with feelings? This was the exact reason he always tried to avoid catching them!</p>
<p>“Look, I know how incredible you are, how smart and capable you are, I just…” He reached forward and cupped Misto’s face in his hands. “... If anything happened to you I couldn’t stand it,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.  </p>
<p>“Then consider this me signing up,” Misto said quietly. “I mean it. Whether you like it or not, I’m in this now.”</p>
<p>“I can’t promise you’ll be safe,” Tugger whispered.</p>
<p>“I’m not asking you to. I’m all grown up, you know, I can look after myself. And besides, don’t you think I’d be safer with you than if I followed you by myself? </p>
<p>“I guess-”</p>
<p>“And I doubt you’d get very far without me, especially if you’re getting deeper into the lore of the Rod. We’ve clearly proven that’s my area of expertise, no?”</p>
<p>“I-, yeah,” Tugger agreed weakly. </p>
<p>“So here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to go and buy us tickets to Turkey, and I’m going to stay here and pack up our things. And you’re going to give me your passport, so you don’t get any ideas, okay?”</p>
<p>“Okay.”</p>
<p>“Lovely.”</p>
<p>Tugger wasn’t happy about the danger, not at all, but it was true. To go further, he was undoubtedly going to need Misto’s knowledge. Additionally, spending more time with him was not something Tugger could be sad about, even in these circumstances. </p>
<p>Shit. He was doing that thing again, wasn’t he? Being overprotective of the people he cared about? In his defence, it was a sensible trait. It was sad, really, something he didn’t like to think about too much, but since there were very few people in that category in the first place, he couldn’t afford to lose any of them. Somehow, in the short time they had known each other, his lovely Buttons had become one of those people. Some luck he had. With the way things had gone in his life, Tugger normally found it very difficult to trust people, to let them in. How had Misto managed to slip behind his walls? When had Tugger ever been comfortable enough to talk even a little about his relationship with his brother with anyone? His shouting match with Plato was proof he generally wasn’t. </p>
<p>It didn’t matter really though, did it? Misto had, somehow, slipped behind those walls, and Tugger would fight like hell to try and keep him safe. He couldn’t afford to lose anyone else important to him. So, composing himself after his necessary dramatic moment, he handed over his passport without any more fuss. Misto smiled at him, and he felt the usual scurry of butterflies in his stomach as he stepped out with Plato. (Seriously, how was he still getting butterflies after sleeping with the guy? What was going on?)</p>
<p>They had decided Plato would go ahead of them, and meet up with an old friend of Munkustrap’s in Istanbul, who would accompany them down to Çanakkale where their quest would begin.</p>
<p>“Here,” Tugger said, ripping Munkustrap’s map from the diary, “take this and look after it.”</p>
<p>“What? Tugger, are you sure?” Plato stalled, looking at the paper with apprehension.</p>
<p>“Yeah, probably safer not to keep them together.”</p>
<p>Tugger couldn't explain the sudden whim, but it was forceful, and he knew it was the right call when Plato tucked the map into his jacket and out of sight.</p>
<p>“See you tomorrow, right?” Plato asked nervously.</p>
<p>“With bells on, my dear. Don’t worry, Alonzo is alright, despite being Munkustrap’s friend.”</p>
<p>Plato let out a small laugh and turned towards the gate.</p>
<p>“Behave yourself, Tugger.”</p>
<p>“Excuse you, I’m always well-behaved!”</p>
<p>Plato merely scoffed. Tugger grinned as he watched Plato board the zeppelin, before jumping on the boat that would take him back to the apartment. </p>
<p>As he disembarked, something yellow caught his eye. With a grin, he subtly swiped a flower from a cafe table as he walked past. He wondered if Misto would find it funny if he tried to pin it on him. He should, it was a hilarious throw-back to their first meeting. Ah, how far they’d come. Tugger smiled at the memory as he swung open the apartment door.</p>
<p>“Buttons?” he called. Nothing. That was weird. The place was silent, and Misto nearly always had the wireless on. Odd. Tugger shucked off his jacket and opened his bedroom door to chuck it on the bed when he stopped dead.</p>
<p>The room was ransacked. Books were strewn all over the floor, their pages fluttering weakly in the draft from the door. The desk was overturned, one of its legs hanging on by a mere splinter. Tugger’s stomach lurched.</p>
<p>“Buttons!” he called again. Still nothing. Tugger threw himself into the hall and wrenched Misto’s door open. The room was in a similar state to his own. His eyes frantically scanned everything, to no avail. “MISTO!”</p>
<p>Suddenly, he heard a faint clatter and splash from the left. The bathroom! Knocking aside a broken chair and jumping over a toppled bookcase, he yanked open the bathroom door. Almost immediately he slipped and skidded across the floor, seizing hold of the sink in a desperate attempt to keep himself upright, legs flailing madly. What the fuck? Why was the damn floor wet? He took a deep breath to steady himself and looked up.</p>
<p>The sink was overflowing, the water flowing freely over the sides. He twisted the squeaky tap firmly off. What the fuck was going on? Where the hell was Misto?</p>
<p>A slight movement flickered in the corner of his eye, and he spun round to find a lethal-looking plank of wood splattered with blood less than an inch from his face.</p>
<p>“Tugger?”</p>
<p>The plank lowered slightly to reveal an extremely ruffled Mistoffelees. Tugger nodded quickly, still eyeing the makeshift weapon with apprehension. It took Misto a minute to follow his gaze, but after a tense moment he tossed the plank aside with a clatter and a splash. Breathing heavily into his hands, he slowly slid down back against the wall.</p>
<p>“Misto,” Tugger repeated softly. He carefully stepped over towards him. Kneeling down, he gently lifted Misto’s face to look at him. He only just managed to stop himself from recoiling - there was a large cut across Misto’s left temple. Tugger gently ran a thumb beneath it. It didn’t seem too deep, thankfully, and Misto didn’t wince or flinch away from his hand as he looked it over.</p>
<p>“Sweetheart, what happened? Who did this?” Tugger asked in a low voice.</p>
<p>Misto looked directly at him for the first time since he came in.</p>
<p>“Hidden Paw,” he whispered.</p>
<p>“Macavity?” Tugger asked sharply, “Macavity was here?”</p>
<p>That bastard. He’d kill him. He’d track him down and gut him like a fish.</p>
<p>“No, henchmen of his, or something, I don’t know, I…” Misto shook his head and looked down again.</p>
<p>“Talk to me,” Tugger said more gently, trying to ignore the biting cold of the water freezing him from the shins upward as he knelt awkwardly beside him.</p>
<p>“They broke in, they were looking for Munkustrap’s diary.” Ah, that explained the ripped-apart rooms, then. “I said I didn’t have it, I didn’t know where it was, told them to fuck off, but they didn’t believe me. They– they started tearing the place apart, so I whacked them with that plank… they didn’t like that. They have my–” Misto cut off, breathing heavily. </p>
<p>Tugger squeezed his shoulder in what he hoped was an encouraging way. </p>
<p>“They have my sister,” Misto continued, blinking furiously. “They said if I don’t bring them the diary they’ll–, they’ll kill her. Then they–” he mimed hitting his head “– and when I came to I heard someone coming. I didn’t realise it was you. Sorry for almost bludgeoning you,” he added in a tiny voice. </p>
<p>Tugger’s heart gave a painful squeeze. He paused for a moment, trying to find the right words.</p>
<p>“Well, first of all, I can’t believe you stood there and told the Hidden Paw to fuck off and then whaled on them with a makeshift bludgeon. That’s amazing and majestic and I’m devastated I missed it.”</p>
<p>Misto let out a weak snort of laughter.</p>
<p>“Second of all, they’re not going to lay a finger on your sister or my brother while we have the diary, so we have some breathing space to come up with a plan. And third, we really need to move out of this bathroom because my legs have gone to sleep and I’m freezing my ass off in all this water.”</p>
<p>“What?” Misto’s eyes widened and he looked down, seeming surprised to find water seeping into their clothes. Tugger forced back a chuckle. He stood, hissing slightly as his calves seized up. Taking Misto’s hands, he pulled him to his feet and hobbled over to the door. Mistoffelees shivered slightly as Tugger grabbed one of the fluffy towels from the rack.</p>
<p>“Come on, Buttons, there we go,” Tugger smiled as he draped the towel artfully over Misto’s head. </p>
<p>“Don’t call me Buttons,” Misto grumbled, pulling the towel down.</p>
<p>“Then what do you want to be called?”</p>
<p>“What’s wrong with my actual name?”</p>
<p>“How about Sparkles, for your sparkling wit?”</p>
<p>“You’re insufferable.”</p>
<p>“Yet at the same time, entirely loveable, no?” Tugger grinned at Mistoffelees’ exasperated expression. He stepped back, and said, “Get changed and meet me in my room and we’ll decide what we’re going to do, okay?”</p>
<p>And <em> oh</em>, Tugger was not at all ready for the soft smile that Mistoffelees gave him. His stomach performed several cartwheels as Misto nodded and Tugger took his leave, escaping into the quiet of the hallway.</p>
<p>Mistoffelees was significantly more composed, although still a little tense, when he made his way through about fifteen minutes later. Tugger had mostly righted his room, shoving all the broken stuff over to the side. The diary sat innocently on the now-cracked desk. Misto eyed it as he sat down on the edge of the bed, but didn’t say anything. Tugger suddenly realised that not only had Misto lied to the Hidden Paw, he hadn’t sold Tugger out, even though they had kidnapped his sister. He felt a rush of affection as he looked at Misto, whose eyes were slightly red, but full of determination.</p>
<p>“Let’s see that cut,” Tugger said softly. He had pulled out his own first aid kit, which over the years he had found was always a very useful thing to have around. Misto was silent as Tugger looked him over. Once it had been cleaned up a bit, the cut didn’t look so bad at all.</p>
<p>“It doesn’t look like it’ll need bandaged or anything, just be careful with it,” he diagnosed. Misto said nothing. “It could be worse,” Tugger said, somewhat grasping at straws, “‘bout five years ago I got a nasty bite when I was out in the middle of the jungle on a job, with no supplies, of course, and days from human contact. By the time I got back it was pretty badly infected, thought they were gonna have to chop the arm off. You know what bit me?”</p>
<p>Misto looked up at him, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“Get this: a mouse.”</p>
<p>“What?” </p>
<p>“Yup. So much cool shit lives in Indian forests, we’re talking tigers, snakes, bears, and I nearly get taken out by a fucking mouse.”</p>
<p>Misto blinked, then burst out laughing. Oh, Tugger never wanted that sound to stop! He had a library of stupid anecdotes, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Since then I thought it best to get some basic first aid training, and to never be without my kit. Can you even imagine how uncool I felt? I told everyone it was a monkey to try and protect a little bit of my dignity. And I’ve never told anyone this, I’m only telling you to get you to smile, you absolutely cannot tell anyone else or my reputation will be ruined.”</p>
<p>“My lips are sealed,” Misto replied with a smile. </p>
<p>Tugger brushed his hand over his cheek.</p>
<p>“That’s better,” he said, perching down on the bed beside him. The humour slowly faded from Misto’s face.</p>
<p>“Now they have two people we care about,” he sighed.</p>
<p>Tugger hummed softly. Leaning over, he wrapped an arm around Misto’s shoulders, holding him tightly. </p>
<p>“She’s going to be fine, trust me, okay? As I said, Macavity isn’t going to touch a hair on either of their heads as long as we have the diary.”</p>
<p>Misto leaned into Tugger’s chest, and Tugger took the opportunity to embrace him properly.</p>
<p>“But we can’t just give them the diary,” Misto said miserably, his voice muffled in Tugger’s shirt. “If the Hidden Paw gets hold of the Rod they’ll be unstoppable.”</p>
<p>“We’re not going to,” Tugger assured him. “Where did they tell you to bring it to?”</p>
<p>“Schloss Brunwald. It’s a castle-”</p>
<p>“South of Munich on the Austro-German border. They’ve got a rather famous collection of medieval artwork.”</p>
<p>“How do you know that?” </p>
<p>“I’m psychic and I read your mind.”</p>
<p>Misto twisted to squint up at him and Tugger smiled.</p>
<p>“I’m joking, Sparkles. I know Munkustrap is the smart one, but I do have a doctorate of my own, thank you very much. I wrote an essay on one of the tapestries in university.”</p>
<p>“I never questioned your intelligence,” Misto huffed, pulling away from him. Tugger let him go with a light laugh, and stood up.</p>
<p>“So, new plan: find a car, drive up to Germany, rescue your lovely sister, escape before we’re noticed and then on to Turkey. Sound good? Oh, and we’ll get Munkustrap too, I guess.”</p>
<p>“Van Zonderen has a car,” Misto said, holding back a smile. “He said we could use it if we needed. I presume he meant for research purposes, but…”</p>
<p>“I’m sure he won’t care, but we can send him a cable to let him know we’re going on a field trip if you want.”</p>
<p>“Alright,” Misto nodded, standing up and straightening himself out, “I didn’t really get the chance to pack, as you can see.”</p>
<p>“I think I can forgive you that,” Tugger grinned. Misto huffed a laugh and headed for the hall.</p>
<p>“I didn’t mean it, you know,” he blurted out, halting as he reached the door. Tugger jumped slightly in surprise. “What I said about you being as bad as the Hidden Paw,” Misto continued quickly, talking more to the floor than to him. “I was just angry, I misjudged you, and I’m sorry. It was a horrible thing to say, and it’s not true at all.”</p>
<p>Truth be told, Tugger had completely forgotten about that.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it, Sparkles, I know you didn’t. But I meant what <em> I </em> said. You’re a wonderful, adorable <em> nerd</em>.”</p>
<p>Misto met his eyes with a shy smile that played absolute havoc with Tugger’s insides. Almost immediately his guts began squirming like snakes, like they were determined to expose him as being totally gone on the man in front of him. He grinned at the door like an idiot for several minutes after Misto closed it behind him, before pulling himself together. Now they had two rescuees. He had better start packing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Me, at any given moment: is this… an opportunity… for a forehead kiss?<br/>(It is always the right time for a forehead kiss)</p>
<p>I know literally nothing about first aid, so my apologies if this is hideously inaccurate. </p>
<p>The bathroom bit was actually one of the first scenes I wrote for this fic way back when, although it's changed so much since that it's barely recognisable~</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Why are you like this?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Omg I'm so sorry this took so long! In my defence, I had to move to a different country, and my beta changed jobs twice! But that should be all over now, so hopefully uploads will be much faster~</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite Mistoffelees having lived in the Venetian apartment for several weeks longer than Tugger, he was packed and ready to go much faster. It took Tugger almost half an hour to track down all of his things that had somehow gotten <em> everywhere </em>since he had arrived. He couldn’t even blame the Hidden Paw henchmen, unless they had taken his shoes and started flinging them from room to room, which he doubted. But finally, after pulling his last sock from under the couch, he was done. Throwing a highly casual arm around Misto’s shoulders, they said goodbye to Venice.</p>
<p>Well, not quite. Due to the lack of roads in the canal city, the car was kept back on the mainland, so they had to get a train. Since they were leaving the main tourist area, their journey was rather quiet. It was weird, Tugger thought, as they chugged over the Venice Railroad Bridge, that he was leaving one of the most romantic cities in the world without having been on a single date. Huh. Maybe he would be able to talk Misto into going back at a later time, if he wasn’t too put off by the place where he had been threatened and nearly blown up by a violent criminal organisation. Tugger had heard that wasn’t a normal occurrence for most people. Oh well. He had heard that Switzerland was very nice this time of year, maybe that would be better.</p>
<p>Tugger slouched in his seat as Venice disappeared behind them. His arm was draped over the back of their seats as he looked around the inside of the carriage disinterestedly, the tips of his fingers just grazing Misto’s shoulder.</p>
<p>“This is yours,” Misto said suddenly, breaking the quiet between them. Tugger looked over to see him reach into his coat pocket and withdraw Tugger’s passport. </p>
<p>“You can hang onto it, if you want,” Tugger winked.</p>
<p>“No, it’s okay. I trust you,” he replied, keeping his eyes down.</p>
<p>Tugger took it from him, taking care to brush their fingers together as he did. He tucked it into his own inner pocket as the train chuntered to a halt in the mainland borough of Mestre. They got off and headed for the car. Misto led the way, and Tugger was incredibly glad. He considered himself to have an excellent sense of direction, but he was very quickly disoriented by the twisty labyrinth that was Venetian city planning, and was utterly discombobulated by the time they reached the car. Thankfully, Misto was more than happy to drive the first leg of their journey, and take them out of the city and up north into the mountains. In total, they estimated the journey would take around 6-7 hours, arriving by nightfall. Surely their rescuees (plural, for Tugger was 100% certain they would be being held together), would be able to hold out until then.</p>
<p>Misto was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the journey. Not that he was normally overly chatty like Tugger was, but he usually had pretty good conversation. He was perfectly friendly when he did speak, but after they had come up with a plan of attack (fairly simple: bluff their way in, grab Victoria and Munkustrap, and sneak out before anyone realised), he only did so when Tugger directly prompted him or asked a question, otherwise he lapsed back into silence, occasionally wringing his hands together. Tugger squeezed his leg gently. He wasn’t sure what to say. They had also made a backup plan which he truly loathed, it seemed far too unnecessarily risky, but Misto was clearly incredibly scared for his sister (and was also apparently as stubborn as Tugger was to boot), and he didn’t want to fight with him. It made Tugger feel slightly guilty about his own low level of concern for his brother, but he didn’t know how to describe it, he just knew Munkustrap was alright. He doubted that would make Misto feel better though, so he kept it to himself.</p>
<p>They crossed the German border with little fuss as night fell. A storm was starting to blow up, and it was pouring down by the time they made it to Schloss Brunwald. The castle looked incredibly creepy in the dark, occasionally illuminated by flashes of lightning. It wouldn’t have looked out of place in a horror movie.</p>
<p>“How do we get in?” Misto asked as they pulled into the long and winding drive, looking up at the castle, his brow furled in a most adorable way.</p>
<p>“I have an idea, and it’ll be hilarious,” Tugger grinned. A plan had been hatching since he had seen the place from the road, and he was quite proud of it.</p>
<p>“What are you going to do?” Misto turned to him as Tugger parked up, looking slightly apprehensive.</p>
<p>“It’s perfect, Sparkles,” he assured, “trust me. You don’t need to do anything, just go along with it!”</p>
<p>Misto still looked sceptical, but allowed Tugger to pull him up to the front door of the castle.</p>
<p>Tugger had to smash his fist into the door numerous times before it was opened by an affronted-looking butler. He was almost disappointed to not see Count Dracula - it would have been so fitting. Before the butler could say anything Tugger had brushed past him roughly, shaking himself off onto a fine rug.</p>
<p>“Well it’s about bloody time,” he complained. “Did ye intend tae leave us oot there aw night? Wur drenched!” He faked a loud sneeze in the butler’s startled face.</p>
<p>“Are you expected?” the butler dictated in a haughty tone, looking at Tugger as if he were something the cat had coughed up.</p>
<p>“Dinnae you take aht tone wae me, ma good man! Now scuttle oaf an’ tell Baron Brunwald aht Lord Andrew MacDonald an’ his lovely assistant are here tae view the tapestries.”</p>
<p>“Tapestries?” the butler repeated, raising his eyebrows snootily.</p>
<p>“Dear me,” Tugger announced dramatically, making a show of turning to Misto, who looked slightly bewildered but was playing along, “the man’s a wee bit glaikit, inne? ‘Is is a castle, is it no?” he questioned loudly, waving an arm around the entrance hall. “Ye’ve goat tapestries?”</p>
<p>“This is a castle,” the butler stated, puffing out his chest, “and we have many tapestries, but if you are a Scottish lord, then I am Mickey Mouse!”</p>
<p>Tugger took a small pause, making sure to look as offended as he could, staring at the man before turning back to Misto with a flabbergasted exclamation. </p>
<p>“How dare he?”</p>
<p>He spun back around swiftly and whacked the butler over the head hard. The man immediately crumpled. Taking hold of his feet, Tugger dragged his unconscious form over to a nearby closet and closed him inside with a snicker. </p>
<p>“Good, right?” He turned back with a wide grin.</p>
<p>Misto rolled his eyes, but Tugger could tell he was trying not to smile, which he took as a win. </p>
<p>They made their way deeper into the castle a lot more quietly. Tugger was more alert than he had ever been, he kept one hand on his pistol, and the other around Misto’s wrist. They travelled along a gallery and approached a mezzanine. Making sure they were completely hidden behind a large stone pillar, Tugger leaned to the side and peered over the ornate wooden balustrade. </p>
<p>Below there were around ten people sitting around a table by a fireplace, playing cards and chattering. It would have been a perfectly innocent, cheerful sight, were it not for the fact that each of them was heavily armed with a variety of guns and other assorted weaponry. He silently shifted back and gestured for them to keep moving.</p>
<p>They passed deeper into the castle, eyes and ears on guard for any whisper, any footstep that may alert them to danger. Turning down another hallway, Tugger finally noticed something.</p>
<p>“I think it’s this one,” he whispered, nodding to a door to their right. He gave it a gentle rattle. Unsurprisingly, it was locked.</p>
<p>“How do you know?” Misto asked quietly.</p>
<p>“It’s wired.” Tugger pointed upwards to where three or four thick black wires were running along the wall and through the crack above the door. “Here.” He pulled them into the next room along, which looked to be a small study coated in a thick layer of dust. Tugger quietly closed the door behind them and strode across the room. He threw open the window and clambered onto the slippery sill. The rain was still coming down with a vengeance, and within seconds he was soaked through.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” Misto hissed in alarm, pulling on his jacket.</p>
<p>“Don’t worry,” he grinned, “this is child’s play! Wait here, I’ll be back.” With a wink he began to sidle along the window sill. It wasn’t quite as easy as he’d hoped, the weather making it precariously slippery. Still, nothing he couldn’t handle. It wasn’t too high up either, if he did lose his balance the fall probably wouldn’t kill him. </p>
<p>Probably.</p>
<p>There was a small jump between here and the next window along. Bracing himself, he took a small leap and landed, but only just. His feet slid out from underneath him and for one terrifying moment he was falling, before managing to grab onto a jutting stone brick with his hand. With difficulty he hoisted himself back up using small cracks in the walls as footholds. Letting out a heavy sigh of relief, he rammed his elbow into the next window and rolled forward through the shattered glass, landing in a crouch in the next room. He stood up straight and looked around the gloomy room, a shadow caught his eye, he turned and then—</p>
<p>CRACK!</p>
<p>Something hard and painful smashed him over the head and he buckled forwards, folding over a table in front of him. He struggled to get his bearings when a familiar voice shouted:</p>
<p>“Wait!” </p>
<p>Tugger looked up with a groan, stars dancing in front of his eyes as the fuzzy room came back into focus. A humanoid shape was approaching him, and he squinted up at it.</p>
<p>“Tugger?”</p>
<p>Ah, that was who that familiar voice belonged to.</p>
<p>“Munkustrap?”</p>
<p>“It <em>is </em>you, Tugger!” </p>
<p>A pair of strong hands grabbed him and pulled him upright.</p>
<p>“What are you doing here?” Munkustrap asked incredulously.</p>
<p>“What do you think I’m doing here? Why’d you hit me?” Tugger groaned, rubbing the rising lump on the back of his head.</p>
<p>“That was me, sorry. Thought you were one of them.” </p>
<p>A young woman stepped out of the shadows.</p>
<p>“They use the doors, no?” he grumbled, still massaging his head. She shot him a very unimpressed look.</p>
<p>“Don’t be a baby, I didn’t hit you that hard.” The broken vase in her hand begged to differ. Tugger gave her a closer look. He didn’t recognise her. She was very pretty, short with long hair that was so blonde it was almost white and an air of dignity about her, but in her eyes there was something, a certain expression he had come to know very well.</p>
<p>“You’re Victoria, right?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” she said in surprise. “How did you know?”</p>
<p>“I know your brother,” he replied pleasantly. At once her disdain vanished and her whole face lit up with joy.</p>
<p>“Quaxo!”</p>
<p>“Eh?”</p>
<p>“Mistoffelees, Misto,” she said impatiently, waving a hand. The cracked vase went flying and shattered loudly against the wall. Tugger and Munkustrap simultaneously winced at the noise. “Have you seen him? Is he okay? This one was useless,” she added, nodding at Munkustrap with a scowl, “didn’t know a thing.”</p>
<p>Tugger snorted as Munkustrap spluttered indignantly. Of all the things he could (rightfully) accuse Munkustrap of, not knowing things was not one of them.</p>
<p>“He’s great,” Tugger grinned. Victoria’s face split into a huge smile and oh, what he wouldn’t give to get Misto to look at him like that! “He’s been very helpful actually. We found it,” he added, turning to Munkustrap.</p>
<p>“The catacombs?,” he breathed. “In the library?”</p>
<p>“Yup.”</p>
<p>“I knew it.” Munkustrap stepped over to him, eyes wide as dinner plates. “And the tomb of the second brother?”</p>
<p>“Found it.”</p>
<p>“He was really there?” Munkustrap looked like he was about to cry for joy. “You saw him?”</p>
<p>“Well, what was left of him.”</p>
<p>“And the marker?” Munkustrap was now standing very close, barely a foot away.</p>
<p>Tugger grinned.</p>
<p>“From Trikke, past Olympus and across the Aegean to Çanakkale.”</p>
<p>“Turkey! Of course!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and spinning on the spot. “Oh, Tugger, you did it!”</p>
<p>“You and Dad did it,” Tugger corrected awkwardly. “Years of research.”</p>
<p>“If only I could have been there with you,” Munkustrap sighed, gazing dreamily into space.</p>
<p>“Nah, you’d’ve made a real mess of it. There were rats down there, hundreds of them. Even I thought it was gross.”</p>
<p>Munkustrap’s starry-eyed expression slowly morphed into one of horror and he stumbled backwards into a chair.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Now look, come on, both of you. Get your stuff, we have to get out of here.”</p>
<p>At that moment, the door crashed open. Tugger jumped and whirled round to see three Hidden Paw henchmen pointing machine guns at them. He quickly put his hands up, and saw the other two follow his lead. </p>
<p>“Dr. Deuteronomy.”</p>
<p>“Yes?” Tugger and Munkustrap answered at the same time. Urgh, of course.</p>
<p>The first henchman smirked and pointed his gun directly at Tugger.</p>
<p>“The diary, if you please. We know you have it. Hand it over and no one gets hurt.”</p>
<p>Munkustrap let out a panicked laugh.</p>
<p>“Oh, come on. Surely you don’t think my brother would be that stupid? To bring my diary all the way back here?”</p>
<p>… Fuck.</p>
<p>He tried to laugh along like the notion was ridiculous, but it came out very weak sounding. Munkustrap’s eyes flashed to him.</p>
<p>“You… you didn’t, did you?”</p>
<p>“Well…”</p>
<p>“Jesus <em>Christ</em>, Tugger! Why do you think I sent it home in the first place? So they couldn’t get a hold of it!”</p>
<p>“Can’t we discuss this later?” Tugger barked back.</p>
<p>“Why on earth did I think you could handle this?”</p>
<p>“Oh, will you take it easy?”</p>
<p>“TAKE IT EASY?” Munkustrap yelled “JUST LIKE YOU’VE DONE SO SUCCESSFULLY HERE? WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?” </p>
<p>“WHY AM <em>I </em>LIKE THIS? I CAME TO SAVE YOU!” Tugger roared back.</p>
<p>“OH YEAH? AND WHAT’S THE NEXT STEP OF YOUR AMAZING PLAN THEN? WHO’S COMING TO SAVE YOU?”</p>
<p>At that Tugger snapped, and lunged at Munkustrap. As he suspected, the three henchmen immediately started forward, and gave him the opening he needed. Munkustrap flinched away from him in shock, but before Tugger reached him he twisted on the spot and kicked the table hard. It skidded across the room and crashed into the three henchmen, knocking the wind out of them. Tugger ran and jumped up on top of it. He kicked the first henchman in the face and he crumpled. Leaping back down to the floor, Tugger drove an elbow into the second henchman’s neck. As he wheezed, Tugger slammed his face down into the desk before spinning around and flinging him at his last standing teammate who started to yell for back-up. But before he could get the words out, Tugger shoved him hard against the wall. His head cracked against the stone, and he fell down, silent.</p>
<p>Breathing heavily, Tugger swung round to face the others.</p>
<p>“We’re leaving.<em> Now</em>.” </p>
<p>Munkustrap stood still, mouth gaping like a fish as he stared at the disposed henchmen. Thankfully Victoria seemed to have her wits about her, as she seized him by the arm and dragged him through the door after Tugger, who was bad-temperedly stomping to the next room.</p>
<p>“Misto!” he snapped. He threw the door open, but then stopped dead.</p>
<p>He stood face-to-face with three more Hidden Paw goons, one of whom was holding a struggling Misto by the hair with a lethal looking blade poised by his throat. Victoria let out a shriek and started forward, but Munkustrap grabbed her and held her back.</p>
<p>“All of you stay where you are! Give us the diary or I’ll slit his throat!” the first one cackled, leering at him. </p>
<p>“And your pistol. Place it on the ground and kick it to me,” another one ordered.</p>
<p>Tugger reached his hand slowly towards his holster. He placed the handgun on the ground and kicked it obediently, not taking his eyes off of Misto. His heart began to thunder in his chest. Misto’s eyes found his own, the blade glittered against his skin. Tugger tried to emote something comforting, but all he could feel was fear.</p>
<p>“And now the diary,” the second henchman crooned.</p>
<p>“Don’t give it to them, Tugger!” Munkustrap called from behind him.</p>
<p>But… Misto — he couldn’t let him die!</p>
<p>“NOW!” The henchman yelled, pressing the knife into Misto’s neck hard enough to draw blood. Victoria whimpered behind him. Misto struggled harder against his captor and terror spiked in Tugger’s stomach as his blood began to ooze down the blade.</p>
<p>“Tugger, don’t! They won’t do it, it’s a trap, he’s working for them!” Munkustrap shouted.</p>
<p><em> What</em>?</p>
<p>“How dare you!” Victoria cried.</p>
<p>Misto found Tugger’s gaze again and he shook his head furiously.</p>
<p>“THE DIARY OR HE DIES, NOW!”</p>
<p>“TUGGER, NO!”</p>
<p>Blood splattered against the stone floor and Tugger cracked.</p>
<p>“Alright, take it!” He thrust his hand into his pocket and flung the diary at the henchman, who in turn tossed Misto at Tugger’s feet. Tugger instantly dropped down to him, checking his neck and gently pulling him to his feet. Misto leaned heavily on him, quiet and shaking like a leaf. He’d be alright, Tugger noted in relief, nothing major had been damaged. He wrapped an arm around Misto’s waist, holding him steady. </p>
<p>The henchmen flipped through the diary idly. The one holding it closed it with a snap.</p>
<p>“Bring them to Macavity,” he said in a commanding tone, stepping out of the door.</p>
<p>Macavity? </p>
<p>Fucking hell, this was not going to plan at all. Tugger did not want to resort to the backup plan whatsoever under any circumstances, that was a worst-possible-case scenario, but he was struggling to think how they could escape now. Hopefully something would come to him, and fast.</p>
<p>“With us, now!” the third henchman snapped, the remaining two of them now pointing guns at the group. They followed the first one out of the room, down a grand stone stairway and into what looked like an old-fashioned drawing room, adorned with tapestries and a great marble fireplace. Facing the fireplace, with its back to them was a large wooden armchair, tall and wide enough to completely hide whoever was sitting on the other side.</p>
<p>The first henchman stepped away from them, approaching the chair to hand over the diary to its inhabitant.</p>
<p>“Tugger, I can’t <em>believe </em>you!” Munkustrap hissed, apparently unable to restrain himself despite the situation. “They would never have hurt him, he’s been passing them information this whole time!”</p>
<p>“No,” Misto whispered, still safely tucked under Tugger’s arm. Munkustrap glared at him.</p>
<p>“What utter rot!” Victoria snarled. “How dare you even <em>suggest </em>that-”</p>
<p>“Because, my dear,” a familiar voice rose from the chair along with the man sitting in it, “it’s quite true.”</p>
<p>The man turned, and Tugger gasped.</p>
<p>“YOU!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, for the record, I love Munkustrap. He’s a super interesting character to me, because I don’t think he was always the way that he is in canon. A personal headcanon of mine is that I don’t think he was always the perfect leader when he was younger. He put a lot of pressure on himself to be perfect and to prove himself, working himself day and night, and his personal relationships took a hit because of that. He’s naturally a good person of course, but no one’s perfect and he made mistakes trying to work out who he was and who he thought he was meant to be. That’s basically where I’m at with his characterisation in this. I am planning a big “wtf happened” reveal if anyone wants to stick around (things WILL get better), but I totally appreciate this won’t be everyone’s cup of tea.</p>
<p>(I’m sorry, but Harrison Ford’s shitty Scottish accent in The Last Crusade had me absolutely howling, it’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. NB - I am Scottish and reserve the right to make fun of my own accent.)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come be my friend on <a href="https://afairytalestray.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a> !</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>